“Sure,” they answered in unison.
“And we hear you, Dad. We’ll try to be a little more compassionate,” Brandon added. “After all, we do love her even if she did make our lives a living…”
“I love her too,” their father interjected swiftly, “and I won’t tolerate any disrespectful remarks directed at her. You got that?”
Both boys nodded and looked at each other in surprise.
“Good, now let’s get moving. This is quite a mess you’ve managed to create, and take that trash out to the garage. While you’re out there grab our bags from the jeep.”
Chéri entered their room and went straight to the bathroom. Turing on the faucets she stripped, leaving her clothes where they fell. So, one of her sons was gay. Carefully, she sank into the warm water, giving a little moan as her bottom touched the tub. Resting her head against the rim, she thought about this revelation.
Did it bother her? No, not really. In the last three years she’d come to realize there was much more to love and love-making than some groping in the dark. People didn’t really have a choice regarding what enticed them. Some of the things her husband did to her would have her mother calling in the National Guard. They were about to embark on a new adventure that previously would have had her filing for divorce claiming cruelty.
In the beginning, she’d considered him extremely perverted, in the most delightful way, of course. It was hard to argue when nearly everything he did to her had her screaming in ecstasy. At times he seemed downright diabolical, but before long she was spending an inordinate amount of time wondering what her daddy would come up with next. From the time she walked in the door each night she was assailed by a feeling of anticipation and she knew she was most likely the only women at work who was in a hurry to get home.
Things would change in the next few weeks. She would be home much more often. Her daddy was already making plans and even though she knew she should be a little concerned, she could hardly wait to see what he came up with. It was exciting as hell and without thought her hand strayed between her thighs as she closed her eyes.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” a voice demanded.
Looking up, she could not fail to see the displeasure on her daddy’s face.
“Um… nothing,” she replied, biting her lip.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he snapped as he got down on his knees beside the tub.
“Really, it was nothing. I was just sort of… washing,” she insisted weakly.
“And is that your job?” he asked, taking a washcloth and squeezing some body wash onto it. Slowly he ran the cloth around her neck and shoulders before moving lower. Gently, he skated it over one breast and then the other, pausing to give each of her nipples a firm pinch that had a squeal popping from her mouth.
“Is it?” he demanded once again.
“No, Daddy. It’s your job,” she replied meekly.
“You’re damn right it is,” he snapped, washing her tummy and pushing his hand between her legs.
“What’s going on downstairs?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
“The boys are vacuuming and I have two spinach quiches in the over. Turn over onto your hands and knees,” he ordered briskly.
She moved so quickly to obey, water splashed over the side of the tub, soaking the front of his pants.
“Oops, sorry,” she said, turning her head to hide her smile.
“I’ll bet,” he replied, giving her a crisp slap on her wet cheek.
“Ouch!”
“Where are we, Chéri?” he asked as he began to wash her bottom.
“Home,” she replied, hanging her head.
“And what does that mean?”
“It means that I belong to you,” she answered. “It means that I’m now your baby and you will take care of all of my needs.”
“Very good,” he praised, dropping the cloth and sliding his large soapy fingers along her crack. “So, will I be washing you, little one?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And will I be making sure you’re spotlessly clean, inside and out?” he asked, pushing his finger against her bottom hole.
“Yes, Daddy,” she gasped.
“So is there any need for your busy fingers to be between your legs?” he prodded, both figuratively and literally.
“Nooo,” she wailed when he pushed past her sphincter and slid deep.
“That’s right, there isn’t. I will be responsible for giving you pleasure,” he continued softly. “If I ever catch you playing with my sweet little kitty without permission again, Daddy will punish you quite severely. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she sobbed as he wiggled his finger and plunged it in and out of her. The soap burned a bit, but her knees were shaking as desire swamped her.
“Very good. Now as a reminder I’m going to make sure my baby’s naughty bottom is good and wet before I spank it. This is one of those lessons I don’t want you to forget, sweetie.”
Chéri froze when he withdrew from her ass and cupped several handfuls of water and poured them over her butt, making sure there was not an inch of dry skin. He slipped one strong arm beneath her tummy, holding her firmly in place while he rained stinging smack after stinging smack down on her poor unprotected bottom. He did not stop until she was good and red, squirming uselessly to get away while she sobbed out her apologies.
“There,” he said, apparently satisfied. “That should take care of that. Now let’s get your bath finished. The quiche should be about done.
Quickly he flipped her back over, letting her bottom sink into the warm water and ignoring her hiss. He washed her thoroughly; paying special attention to her pussy after making her spread her legs. When he was done, he helped her from the tub, drying her off with a towel and spending a good amount of time patting and rubbing her sore bottom.
In their room, he chose her clothes, picking out a tight pair of leggings and an oversized tee shirt.
“No panties,” he warned, tossing her the clothes. “Our plans are a little bit delayed with the unexpected arrival of our sons, but you’ll still mind me and be on your best behavior,” he insisted firmly.
“Yes, Daddy,” she answered, sniffling. “I’ll just need a few minutes to pull myself together.”
“Understandable, come down when you’re ready. We’ll wait for you,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “Don’t dally though,” he ordered as he left the room
Chéri sank down on the bed and swiftly jumped back up again, rubbing her backside. Going into the bathroom, she turned and studied her red, splotchy bottom in the mirror. As much as it stung, she still cupped it gently and smiled.
Michael watched and grinned as his babygirl sat slowly at the dining room table. God, she was adorable and as much as he loved his sons, he couldn’t wait to be alone with her. He hoped they didn’t plan too many unannounced visits in the future. Under certain circumstances it would be quite embarrassing for all of them, for he didn’t intend to alter his plans. Chéri had given her consent and he intended to make good use of it. Soon she would be turning to him for everything, hopefully.
He served the quiche along with fresh fruit and juice. If the boys thought it unusual that he was clearly in charge, even going so far as to place their mother’s plate before her, pour her juice and settle her napkin across her lap, they didn’t comment.
They talked generally during the meal, discussed politics, what was going on at school and their favorite sports teams. Brandon, having revealed his sexual preferences, didn’t seem inclined to talk further about it and neither Michael nor Chéri pushed the issue.
As soon as they were done eating, the boys and Michael cleaned up while he sent Chéri into the living room to wait for them. When the kitchen was back in order, they joined her, turning on a football game. Without thought, he pulled her from the couch and settled her back on his lap, staring down the boys when they looked at him in surprise. Both of them quickly became involved in the
score and made no comment.
Chad seemed very nice, although he only stayed a few minutes when he picked them up. With hugs and kisses and promises to stay in touch, they left. Michael heaved a sigh of relief as he turned to his wife.
“Does it bother you?” he asked, tipping her chin up.
“No, at least I don’t think so. As long as he’s happy, who are we to say what’s right and wrong,” she replied thoughtfully.
“There may not be grandchildren,” he reminded her, “although gay couples sometimes adopt. Did you plan on having a houseful of babies?”
“Naw, I’m the baby,” she laughed, launching herself into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist.
Michael smiled and patted her ass gently when she laid her head on his shoulder.
“You certainly are,” he happily agreed. “I think now would be a good time to discuss your nursery. Are you up for that?” he asked as he walked toward his office.
“Anything you say, Daddy,” she replied, hugging him tighter.
“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he laughed. “I don’t think I’ll hear it very often, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“Do you plan to make me suffer, as your baby, I mean?” she asked softly.
“Only in the best possible way,” he replied.
He felt her shiver and press her crotch tighter against him. Oh yes, only in the best possible way.
About the Author
Markie Morelli
Like many authors, Markie Morelli didn’t take her writing career seriously until the last of her six children had one foot out the door. The woman who was frequently seen with a book in one hand and a baby on her hip decided to take the plunge once the demands of motherhood and work eased up.
Markie lives in New England and is a firm believer that some of the best things in life happen after forty, and they don’t necessarily happen to the beautiful people. They happen to the average Joe and his slightly overweight wife with the messy bun in her hair and spaghetti sauce spattered on her sweatshirt. They happen to the couples who have survived the trials and tribulations of marriage, know who they are, and are comfortable enough in their own skin to say what they really want out of life now that the kids are grown.
Her characters are not perfect. They stumble and falter, but in the end they often find out vanilla is not their only choice. There are a lot of flavors out there just waiting to be tasted.
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