Cheri's New Rules

by Markie Morelli

  Smiling, she sipped her coffee deriving a great deal of pleasure at thwarting him one final time before giving up her freedom. Eventually, she made breakfast and called him in, turning up her nose at the stringer of fish he held up for her approval.

  “That is something I will not miss,” she insisted, pointing at his catch.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, obviously a bit confused.

  “Babygirls do not clean fish,” she stated happily.

  “So is that your answer?” he asked cautiously.

  “No, I’m just pointing out something you may not have thought of,” she said, backtracking.

  “Oh, well, you’re right,” he agreed. “They do not, nor do they do anything else their daddies forbid them to do.”

  “I know,” she whispered, setting his plate of ham and eggs on the table. “I would miss some things though.”

  “Like?” he asked as he washed his hands after wrapping the fish in newspaper.

  “Like wine and coffee, to name two.”

  “There will be times I’ll allow you to have both,” he replied as he cut into his ham. “We’ll still go out occasionally and socialize. I could hardly bring along a bottle and hold you on my lap.”

  Chéri laughed.

  “Are you really going to take it that far?” she asked, watching him closely.

  “I’ll take it as far as I want to,” he advised, looking at her with a very serious expression. “You should definitely take that into consideration when making your decision.”

  “What if I’m unhappy, later I mean?” Chéri asked, taking her seat.

  “If and when you’re ever truly unhappy, we’ll deal with it,” he promised, reaching to take her hand. “I love you, more than you know, and I think if you agree to take this step it will enhance our relationship, not damage it, but if it ever comes to that, we’ll make some changes. Somehow I don’t think it will. I sincerely believe you want nothing more than to be my babygirl in every sense of the word.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do and I may as well be completely honest here. When I first mentioned it, I was only thinking of you, the comfort you’d feel knowing everything is out of your hands. The security and peace you would have if Daddy takes care of all of your needs, but the more I thought about it, I realized I wanted it too. I want you to lean on me. I want to be the most important person in your life, the one you depend on for all things, love, care, discipline, satisfaction, the works. This will not be a game, babygirl. I’ll be responsible for taking care of you each and every day of your life. If you’re sick, I’ll nurse you. If you’re hungry, I’ll feed you. If you’re sad, I’ll cheer you and if you’re naughty, I’ll discipline you, but most of all I will love and cherish you above all else. My fondest wish is that, if you agree, everything I do for you and to you will bring you the greatest pleasure imaginable.”

  “Oh, Michael, you make it so hard to resist,” she sighed, kissing his hand.

  “So, what is your answer?”

  Chéri looked into his dark eyes and nodded.

  “My answer is yes, but not until the weekend is over. From the time we get home and walk into the house, I will be your baby,” she said softly. “Some things will have to wait until I settle the issues at work, but other than that, I’m yours.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he replied, “you’ve made me a very happy man and I intend to take my job seriously. You won’t be sorry you’ve entrusted your care to me,” he continued, tugging on her hand and pulling her onto his lap.

  “Really,” she laughed. “I have a feeling I’ll be sorry quite often,” she teased.

  Michael smiled and shook his head.

  “Not if you behave.”

  “Don’t I always? By the way, I thought I’d take the canoe out this afternoon for a while. I’ve got a good book I want to finish and it’s so relaxing on the water.”

  “Do you want me to go with you?” he asked, nibbling on her neck.

  “No, I’ll just take a sandwich and enjoy the sunshine while it lasts.”

  “Okay, but you know the rules, babygirl. Wear your lifejacket and stay where I can see you from the porch, oh and no wine. Alcohol and boating don’t mix,” he reminded her sternly.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she replied, grinning as she rested her head on his chest. Yes, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

  Hours later Chéri lay in the warm sun, her life jacket for a pillow. She thought she felt a slight shift in the canoe but kept her eyes closed deciding she’d had a slight run in with a pretty large fish. She felt wonderful, a little bit tipsy, but that could just be the water making everything sway gently.

  Smiling, she saluted no one and giggled. This had been her last act of defiance; in fact, it was the most blatantly defiant thing she’d done in more than three years. It felt good, even if he’d never know.

  But he might know she thought, fighting down a twinge of panic. Perhaps she was drunker than she’d thought. Would he notice? Was he still sleeping? It almost seemed as though her canoe was moving. Opening her eyes, she squinted up and looked over the side, shocked to see Michael towing her to shore from his kayak.

  Oh God, oh God, she thought sitting upright and feeling a bit nauseous. Where’s the bottle? I’ll tell him I had too much sun and fell asleep. Locating the nearly empty wine bottle she stuck her hand over the side of the boat and let it fill with water.

  “Don’t you dare!” he growled, glaring at her over his shoulder as the anger in his voice carried easily across the water.

  “What?”

  “Don’t you dare pollute this lake.”

  “Oh.” Looking down, she saw a cookie wrapper that must have been stuck to the bottle floating on the water and made a mad grab for it before he could see it.

  “Sit still, Chéri,” he yelled, “before you tip us both over.

  “Out for an early evening trip around the lake?” a man voice called.

  “Something like that,” Michael replied. “How are you, Mr. MacGruder?”

  Hell, Mr. MacGruder, their closest neighbor and a nosier man she’d never met. Besides, it was afternoon, not evening, she huffed under her breath. Looking up, she searched for the sun only to note it was sinking over the horizon. Shit! She’d been out for hours. No wonder he was so mad.

  “Something wrong with your wife, Mike, that she can’t paddle her own canoe?” the old man asked with a laugh.

  “Nothing a good old-fashioned spanking can’t fix,” Michael replied grimly as he got out of his kayak and pulled her to shore.

  Chéri gasped and knew her face was eight shades of red.

  “Well I’ll be,” MacGruder crowed, “A man who still wears the pants in his family. Not many of your kind around these days. You’re a lucky woman, Mrs. Reynolds, yes ma’am, a mighty lucky woman,” he said laughing as he walked on.

  “Funny, I don’t feel so lucky,” she called after him. That remark only made him laugh harder and she flinched when Michael pulled her alongside him and plucked her from the canoe. His hand on the small of her back urged her toward the cabin before he beached her boat and lifted his kayak onto the dock.

  “No, lucky wouldn’t be the word I’d choose if I were you,” he said as he made his way to her and took her arm. “In fact, I have a feeling you’re going to remember this day as the last time you pushed your luck.”

  He was furious, possibly angrier than she’d ever seen him, she noted as she stumbled along beside him. His long strides ate up the distance to the cabin as her mind worked frantically to come up with some plausible explanation for her behavior. Finally, in desperation she blurted out an incredibly stupid statement.

  “Don’t forget the rules,” she hissed as he towed her up the steps. “It’s adult weekend and you can’t—”

  “The rules?” he snapped, glaring at her. “You have the nerve to say that to me when you’ve just broken three of the most important ones, rules that your then wimpy husband laid down when we first bought this prope
rty?” Spinning her through the door he moved her to the couch and pushed her onto her butt.

  Chéri sunk her fingers into the cushion to keep from bouncing.

  “I didn’t ask for much back then and expected even less from you, but the basic rules for your safety were made quite clear. Do not go out on the water without a lifejacket, ON! Do not consume alcoholic beverages while boating or swimming! And do not go farther than you can swim back. I want you within sight of the cabin at all times, especially if you’re out alone!”

  Scooting backward as far as she could Chéri tried to avoid his flashing dark eyes. As they were nearly nose to nose, it was difficult. Usually his dominant attitude touched something in her that caused her panties to get wet. Tonight she was afraid she was going to pee them.

  His big hands were planted on each side of her quivering legs, trapping her. Frantically she prayed for the return of the happy, loving man she’d left resting on the hammock this afternoon. In desperation, she did the only thing she could think of.

  “Daddy,” she burst out. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be so mad.”

  “Daddy? “he gasped. “So you’re going to play the daddy card are you?” he asked as he straightened up and laughed. “You know that might have worked had you paddled yourself to shore half a bottle of wine ago. I may have fallen for your naughty girl routine, especially since I was so happy with your decision. Unfortunately, you made it perfectly clear you are not my baby until we walk through the door of our home and that’s, let’s see,” he drawled, looking at his watch, “tomorrow!” he shouted. “Tonight you are my wife, my very badly behaved adult wife and I’ve always been a subscriber to the ideal that the punishment should fit the crime. Maybe that’s why I’m a judge, huh?” he snorted. “No, my foolish, risk-taking, sneaky brat of a wife, tonight your punishment will be very adult indeed.

  “Go and get ready for bed,” he ordered, pointing in the direction of the bedroom.

  “But it’s early yet,” she cried as she scooched further down the couch and away from him before rising. “I thought we could cuddle on the couch and watch a movie or something,” she continued, cringing at the whine in her voice.

  “Believe me, when I get through with you, you’ll want to go to bed. In fact, you will probably not want to sit anywhere for the next week. Now get,” he snapped.

  Chéri sidled around him and hurried to the bedroom. Crap, she thought, twisting her hands before taking a nightgown from the dresser. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he would find out. He found everything out. Now she was in for it and there was no way around it. Why had she insisted on flaunting his authority in such a way? It wouldn’t have mattered to him what age she was. These rules were carved in stone and had been for years.

  Stripping off her clothes, she pulled her nightgown over her head and went into the bathroom. The sight of her reflection in the mirror only made her feel worse. Guilt was written all over her, from her pale face to her trembling hands as she tried to wash her face. She went pee and washed her hands before returning to the bedroom. There was no escape and she wouldn’t even if she could.

  Michael didn’t have a mean streak. He never made rules hoping she’d break them. That would have been unfair and it wasn’t in his nature. As a rule, he was more likely to give someone the benefit of the doubt. As far as spanking her, he’d made it clear from the beginning that at times that would happen even if she were a good girl, mainly because he enjoyed it. In her heart, she knew whatever was coming her way tonight, it was not something he would enjoy.

  It was a long time before he entered their bedroom. So long, in fact, she was nearly asleep in her rocker.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, taking a seat on the bed.

  “No,” she whispered, looking down at her hands. Making eye contact was difficult. He was a big man, strong and handsome with the warmest eyes and she didn’t want to start crying already.

  “Then come here,” he said quietly.

  Chéri rose on shaky legs and walked slowly to him. He didn’t pull her over his lap and he didn’t ask her to sit. He only said one word.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “For some reason I wanted to have a sort of last hurrah before tomorrow. I know it sounds stupid.”

  “It not only sounds stupid, it was stupid,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I fell asleep. When I woke up you were in the middle of the lake, well your canoe was. I couldn’t see you at all and worried you’d fallen out. I called out to you, knowing my voice would carry across the water but you didn’t answer. Then I got the binoculars and ran to the water’s edge searching for an orange life jacket.”

  “And you didn’t see one,” she answered, her head down.

  “No,” he sighed, “I didn’t see one. I got out the kayak and paddled as fast as I could to the canoe only to find you sleeping with no life…well I don’t need to tell you what I found.

  “I was sick, nearly frantic with worry and so fucking grateful when I saw you sleeping. On the heels of that gratitude, came anger. A few hours ago you insisted you would not be my baby until we got home, yet you acted in the most irresponsible and childish manner possible and tied my hands in dealing with you. I was furious; I still am,” he admitted, running a hand through his thick hair.

  Chéri dropped to her knees beside him and laid her head on his knee.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry for what I did and sorry for trying to control the situation one last time before I gave you everything. You’ve shown me nothing but love since we began this journey. Even your discipline is a form of love, for it clearly demonstrates what I mean to you, and although it embarrasses me to admit it, brings me pleasure.”

  She felt his hand stroking her hair and raised her tear filled eyes to his. Taking his hand in hers, she kissed it.

  “You may punish me any way you see fit,” she sniffed as the tears spilled down her cheeks. “As your wife, your little girl, your baby, I will not fight you for I know I truly deserve it. I love you, Michael or Daddy, it doesn’t change that.”

  “All right, little one, go and get your hairbrush,” he ordered gently as he helped her to her feet.

  Chéri did as he asked and quivered as she handed it to him and he guided her over his knees. She began to shake as he lifted her nightgown, baring her. His big, warm hand settled on her bottom and strangely it offered her comfort.

  “You are never again to repeat what you did today,” he said sternly. “If you do, I will sell this place and you’ll be glad because the punishment you receive will make you never want to come here again. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “I never want to lose you, so in the future I’d appreciate it if you curtail your silly ideas of putting something over on me. Believe me, your bottom will thank you too,” he promised as he began to spank her with his hand.

  Chéri tried her best to accept what he doled out, but it wasn’t long before she was crying pitifully and pleading for mercy. When he picked up the brush, she knew none would be forthcoming and stopped begging. Never before had she truly understood what the term “blistered” meant, but she found out quick enough, for Michael spared no part of her, from the tops of her cheeks to mid-thigh. It was horrible, horrible, and when he finally put the brush aside and gathered her into his arms, she vowed to never again put herself at risk.

  When she’d calmed down, he went to the bathroom and returned with a washcloth to bathe her face. He made her blow her nose and get into bed, lying beside her.

  “Daddy?” she asked, still crying against his chest.

  “What is it, babygirl?” he asked as he rubbed her back gently.

  “Can we go home tomorrow?”

  “It’s Sunday,” he replied slightly mystified. “We are going home tomorrow.”

  “In the morning, Daddy,” she said, sniffing. “I want to go home first thing.”

  Her entire body relaxed whe
n he pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.

  “Of course we can,” he replied. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to take my babygirl home and start planning her nursery.”

  Chéri fell asleep dreaming of pink bunnies and fluffy white clouds.

  The End

  More Rules for Chéri

  Enjoy this preview of the next book in this delightful series.

  More Rules for Chéri

  New Rules – Book Two

  By

  Markie Morelli

  Michael Reynolds was up before dawn, making coffee and gathering items that needed to be placed in his Jeep Cherokee for the trip home. Chéri, his wife, was still sleeping, most likely on her tummy due to the spanking she’d received last night for scaring the hell out of him.

  From the time they’d bought the cabin at the lake, referred to as The Lake House, there had been few rules. It was the one place they could go with their then young sons to relax and have fun. However, there were certain things that Michael insisted on. His wife and the boys were not to go out on the lake without lifejackets on. They were not to travel in the kayaks or canoe further than they could swim back, and they were to stay within sight of the cabin if they were out on the water alone. Yesterday, Chéri had broken all three. Not only that, but she’d added one more faux pas that tipped the scales on his temper—she took a bottle of wine with her.

  What was supposed to be an adult weekend for the couple who, for the last three years, ever since their twin sons went off to college, had lived a modified age-play relationship, turned into something else entirely.