by Thianna D
“I can’t believe Arthur had the gall to do what he did,” Char said, perched on the edge of what Elly considered her and Jerry’s cuddle chair, since that’s where Jerry usually held her when she was upset. Even though the deeply upholstered brown suede armchair was not terribly attractive, it had become one of her favorites and she refused to let Jerry replace it. Sitting in it, even when alone, infused her with a sense of calm and peace.
She never had an emotional connection to any of the furniture she’d purchased with Arthur. Their large, king-size bed was a place of pain more than pleasure, as was his desk, their dining room table, the small kitchen table and the counters. Even their living room sofa wasn’t a source of comfort for Elly. Arthur ordered her over almost every piece of furniture they owned to receive her punishments. Wherever was convenient.
“Elly, are you all right? Should I get Jerry?”
Grabbing her board, Elly jotted, “Fine. Why?”
“You had the most unpleasant expression on your face a few seconds ago. Are you in pain?”
Elly shook her head and wrote, “Bad memories.”
“Do the doctors think you two can still get married on Saturday?”
Good question, though it wasn’t the doctor’s decision that worried her. Giving what she hoped would appear as an offhand shrug, Elly scribbled “Not sure, yet.”
Char kept Elly company for another hour, then assuring her everything would work out for the best, she left to allow Elly time to finish her lines.
Jerry returned at six and checked her progress. She had eighteen pages completed. The last six were often the worst since her hand would start cramping in protest, so she flexed and curled her fingers as he reviewed each page, when he was done, he set the pile back on the coffee table.
“Good work. Two more pages and I’d say you’re finished. Hand hurting?”
Nodding, she kneaded the sore muscles. He watched her for a moment, then took a seat beside her and gave her hand a tug. His massages helped, but they were painful in the beginning, because he rubbed much firmer and deeper than she did. Wincing at what was to follow, she reluctantly let him work to loosen her tensing muscles.
“Do you understand why I’m insisting you write these lines?” he asked as a jolt of pain shot up to her elbow and she drew air between her teeth.
She gave another nod. She knew the exercise was meant to drive his point home in a way that would make her think twice before going against his wishes. Sighing she gazed at his profile. He was her image of the clean cut All-American male. Though he could be serious at times, he had a light teasing side that always brought a smile to her face. If she’d met him under different circumstances, she doubted she would have recognized him as a dominant. Arthur, on the other hand, had displayed all the signs of a domineering, possessive, controlling male, and she’d been flattered by his close attentiveness, which was a polar opposite to her sister’s opinion.
Susan viewed Arthur’s quiet directives advising Elly what to wear, as a form of subtle bullying; Elly, however, saw his instructions as positive suggestions and interest in her welfare. Susan thought Arthur’s penchant for correcting Elly’s posture along with her grammar was both controlling and insufferable, while Elly saw it as a desire to teach and mold her into a better person. Lastly, Susan saw Arthur’s insistence on managing Elly’s time and outside contacts, including moving her more than halfway across the country, as manipulative and isolating. Elly believed his decisions reflected his intent to protect and strengthen their marriage, despite any uncertainty she might secretly harbor about the move. Unfortunately, Susan had been right.
Glancing at her, Jerry frowned and asked, “What?”
Elly shook her head and shrugged. With a nod, he placed her hand back in her lap and rose. “I’ll start dinner while you finish your pages. Did you take any pain pills earlier?” At the slight shake of her head, he murmured, “Good. When you’re done, come into the kitchen and we’ll share a glass of wine together. All right?”
She gave another nod, so Jerry strode out of the room.
As Elly picked up the pad and starting writing again, her hand wasn’t nearly as sore, which brought a smile to her lips. Perhaps that was one of the major differences between Jerry and Arthur. Both of them punished for disobedience as well as errors in judgment, and both of them claimed they did so with her well-being in mind. However, Arthur’s punishments were intended to humiliate and shame her into never wanting a repeat. Jerry’s, on the other hand, were to help her learn. They made her want to do better next time so she wouldn’t disappoint him.
Even when the correction was meant to embarrass her a little, like panties-down corner time and bare bottom spankings, Elly never got the impression Jerry was trying to diminish her as a person. Yes, he wanted to teach a lesson, and yes, he wanted the reprimand to be unpleasant, but he never wanted her to think the punishment was more important than she was.
Spankings were supposed to hurt, and she didn’t find pleasure in pain the way Char and many of the other Corbin’s Bend women did, so even the threat of earning a single swat worked as a deterrent for her. Even so, when Jerry spanked, Elly never thought he took delight in causing her discomfort. He didn’t apologize for hurting her, because he felt discipline was necessary when the error was punishable, but he didn’t stint on offering her comfort and reassurance afterwards. He only did that when her words or actions weren’t considered a spankable offense, but had hurt him nonetheless. Even so, he didn’t withhold his affection exactly, but he did hold a part of himself back as a protective measure, like now. And she deeply sensed the loss.
CHAPTER FIVE
When Elly finished her last line, she put the pad down and motioned for Muffin, who’d curled up under the covers by her hip, to hop down on the floor. Once the little dog obeyed, Elly shifted her position and stood. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her board, marker and eraser and strode into the kitchen.
“Done?” Jerry asked, turning to look at her.
At her nod, he glanced at her hands, no doubt noticing she held her board, but no papers so he pointed to her chair at the kitchen table. “Go ahead and have a seat. Would you like some wine? We’re having blended mushroom bisque soup, pot roast puree - courtesy of Char, garlic mashed potatoes - courtesy of Bethany, and a light chocolate soufflé for desert. All supposedly very easy to swallow, even with a sore throat.”
Sitting down she picked up her marker. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“Would love a glass of wine,” she wrote.
“No problem, as long as you don’t think you’ll need any pain meds later.” When she shook her head, he pulled down two glasses. “Coming right up.”
Both the wine and dinner were delicious, and were easy to swallow as promised. After their meal, Jerry sent her back to the couch while he cleaned up. Elly started to protest, but when she disobeyed him by carrying her dishes over to the sink, Jerry took them out of her hands, put them on the counter, gripped her shoulder and gave her a firm swat.
“Ow!” Elly protested, rubbing her backside. Her complaint brought Muffin charging in to investigate. The poodle glanced back and forth between them, but didn’t growl.
Jerry faced Elly directly. “What did I say you were to do?”
Realizing talking would only earn her another strike, she pointed toward the living room.
“Right. Did my words sound like a suggestion to you?”
Elly shook her head. Inching in closer, she rested her cheek on his chest and wrapped her arms around his hips.
He promptly encompassed her in a hug. “I’m getting soap suds on you.”
She didn’t care. What she needed most was to be held right then.
With a gentle rocking from side-to-side, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
Drawing back slightly she gazed up at his concerned expression.
He regarded her for a moment, then with a “Hmm,” lowered his head to kiss her. “You’re not in
trouble, but ignoring me when I ask you to do something isn’t a good way to mend broken fences. Is it?”
When she lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, his eyebrows arched in question, so she shook her head.
“No. It’s not. I won’t be long, but I want you to go sit down. Once I’m done, I’ll come in to check your last two pages. Assuming you did as you were supposed to, we’ll watch a movie together. All right?”
Excited by the prospect, Elly gave an enthusiastic nod.
“Good girl. Pick up your board, return to the living room, choose your film and have a seat. I’ll be in shortly.”
Realizing there was no help for it; Elly collected her board, and strolled over to examine Jerry’s DVD collection. She and Arthur hadn’t owned many movies, and Jerry was a cinema buff. Considering what she wanted to happen later, Elly picked a romantic comedy, placed it on top of the player, and sat down as ordered. Muffin hopped up, circled a few times, and then curled up beside Elly on the quilt.
When Jerry joined them, he glanced at the title, cast a playful grin in her direction and popped the movie into the DVD player before he sat next to her on the couch. Needing the physical contact, Elly curved into his side, so he wrapped his arm about her shoulders, but neglected to place a kiss on her hair the way he usually did.
Worried what that oversight portended, she gave him a quizzical look, but his attention remained fixed on the screen, so she settled down beside him to watch. After a few minutes, he ran his hand along her spine, but she suspected the caress was dispensed more out of habit than purpose. He often rubbed her back when they sat together, so he did what felt natural to him. However, when the movie ended, he pressed a kiss on top of her head and rose to remove the DVD. After putting it back on the shelf, he turned to face her and crossed his arms over his chest. Elly checked the time. It was only nine o’clock. Picking up her board, she wrote, “Another?”
He shook his head. “I’m a bit tired. I didn’t sleep all that well last night, so I think we should make an early night of it.” She smiled back at what she hoped was an invitation.
“I brought your things down,” he continued, his expression devoid of any playfulness or amusement. “I thought you would be more comfortable sleeping in the guest room until we’ve had a chance to talk.”
Elly’s heart plummeted as her worst fears became reality. Her lover was politely saying he didn’t want to sleep with her anymore. Blinking back tears, she wrote, “Why?”
“Less stairs for you to climb. It’ll probably only be for the next few days.”
A single drop splashed on the board as she erased and wrote, “You don’t want me?”
He hesitated, then sighed. “After some of the things you said yesterday, I think we should sleep apart, Elly. We both need time to decide what’s best. Once Marcus says it’s okay for you to talk, we will. After that, we should have a better idea how we’ll want to proceed.”
“You’re angry.”
“No. Okay, perhaps a little, but I’m primarily concerned.” He moved away from the TV. “You can watch another movie if you want, but I’m going to take the dogs for a walk, then go up to bed.”
Frantic to clear the board, she scribbled, “May I go, too?”
“No. It’s cold out, so you should stay inside.”
Elly struggled not to give in to uncertainty, gave a nod and put her board down. Jerry wouldn’t say anything more until they could discuss her issues together, and arguing with him would only make her more upset, so she didn’t try.
He bundled up in his winter coat, clipped on the dog’s leads, and they scampered through the door as one happy little family. Jerry liked to walk when he was bothered by something, and he usually took the dogs out for their last time by himself, but tonight, the invisible wall he’d erected was effectively locking her out.
When Jerry returned, Muffin hopped against his leg for her after-walk treat while Jack patiently wagged his tail. Jerry pulled the biscuits out of his pocket, directed them both to sit, and when they did, he rewarded them. Elly remained on the couch with her arms crossed, refusing to cry. After Jerry hung up his coat and returned the dogs’ leads to their peg, he regarded her for a long moment. Fearing the tears brimming in her eyes would fall down her cheeks, she turned away.
He sighed, then said, “Good night, Elly.”
As he climbed the stairs, Muffin started to follow, but stopped when she realized Elly wasn’t coming. Her head swiveled between Elly and Jerry a few times, then she gave a small whimper. Clearly, her dog didn’t like them sleeping apart any more than she did.
That night Elly tossed and turned until she decided to make a stance in the morning. Jerry was hurt by the things she’d said, and apologizing or attempting to explain through a white board wasn’t cutting it, nor was waiting until someone gave her permission to talk. She was an adult who could make her own decisions. If she pushed him hard enough, Jerry would have to confront the situation so they could clear the air. This sleeping in separate bedrooms was for the birds.
The next morning Elly marched into the kitchen and said, “I’m sorry, all right?” Her voice was a low, raw croak, but it was loud enough for Jerry to whip around from his position at the stove to glower at her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you —”
“Not one more word out of you, young lady. Go fetch your board.”
“You go fetch it, if you want it so badly. I want to talk.”
His eyes first widened in shock, then narrowed in warning. “Board.”
Elly shook her head. “No.” He switched off the stove with a snap of his wrist, his every movement proclaiming his displeasure with her defiance. “I can’t talk to you —”
“Quiet,” he snapped, grabbing her by the arm. His hold was unbreakable, but not painful. He marched her over to the table where he pointed to her board. “Pick it up,” he ordered, his jaw tight.
Yanking free, Elly crossed her arms over her chest. She knew where this would land her, but hoped it would finally clear the air between them. “No.”
With his eyes focused on hers, he undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. A silent admonition. He would follow through with the unspoken threat if she didn’t do as he asked. His words added bite to his actions. “I know what you’re attempting to do, and it won’t work. This is your last warning, Elly. Now. Pick. Up. That. Board.”
Though Jerry didn’t shout, his anger was palpable enough to get Elly to lower her arms and Muffin to give a few uncertain barks, but not enough to convince Elly she needed to change course. “No,” she whispered.
His brows lowering over his eyes, he grabbed Elly’s hand and drew her over to the couch before he glanced down at the poodle trailing their heels. Muffin got upset whenever Jerry punished her. She’d never attacked him for it, but both of them were careful to order the dog to stay in her bed before Jerry took Elly over his knee. This time was no different.
“Muffin, bed now and stay,” he ordered firmly. This time, however, the little dog growled at the command. Jerry gazed at Elly. “She’s not going to like this.” When Elly merely shrugged, he gave a sigh and sat down. “So be it. P.J. bottoms down now.”
“Do it yourself.”
“Fine.” He did exactly that and next thing Elly knew she was face down over his lap with her nose touching her board and her legs effectively restrained by the string on her pajama bottoms, which clung right below her knees. Muffin started barking furiously at Jerry, and Elly knew she should order the dog to bed, but she was too angry, so she clamped her lips together while Jerry positioned her.
“Muffin, your mommy’s been very bad, so she’s getting a spanking. I know you don’t like it, but it’s for your mommy’s own good.”
At Muffin’s unhappy whimper, Elly struggled to rise, but the arm, which held her like an iron band to the hard plane of Jerry’s stomach, wasn’t giving an inch.
“No. You’re not going anywhere right now, little girl. Muffin. Upstairs. Bed now.” When the little dog gazed at
her for confirmation, Elly reluctantly gave the signal to back Jerry’s order. Though she might not like it when Jerry took action, Elly certainly couldn’t blame him for it when she was at fault. Neither of them spoke until Muffin went up stairs, at which point Jerry quietly commanded, “Last time, Elly. Pick up the board.”
Elly harbored no misconceptions over what continued disobedience would earn her this time, but she stubbornly refused to take the out Jerry offered her. “No.”
His hand descended hard enough to push the air out of her lungs. She’d forgotten how painful his barehanded spankings could be.
“Ow!”
“Board,” he repeated.
“No.”
Swat. Swat. Her backside was starting to sting from the assault, but she knew he’d barely begun, and as angry as he was, he might not even stop once she obeyed by picking up the board. She tried thrashing her legs in protest, but that show of resistance only earned her three more swats before he repeated the word, “Board.”
This time her “No” gained her four hard swats and she realized what he was doing. Each time she refused to do as he said, or resisted her punishment, he would add a swat. She wasn’t going to win this argument, but winning wasn’t as important as communication. She wanted him to unbend enough so he would finally talk to her. Problem was, he wouldn’t “talk” until Marcus gave his okay for her to use her voice. So, they still wouldn’t be able to have their conversation, but spanking her might relieve his inner frustration enough that he’d allow her back in his bed.
Determined to bear the punishment as long as she could, Elly got louder and louder with her ‘no’s as his swats multiplied in number and strength, until she’d earned fifteen in a row. His hand finally winning over her tender bottom, she grabbed the board. “All right! I’ve got it.”
“Good. Hold on to it tightly and stop talking. I don’t want to hear another sound out of you while I finish this to my satisfaction.”