Her Choice, Always (A “Her Choice” Story)

by Megan McCoy

  Her Choice, Always

  By

  Megan McCoy

  ©2016 by Blushing Books® and Megan McCoy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  McCoy, Megan

  Her Choice, Always

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-311-0

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the Author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  Table of Contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Epilogue

  About Megan McCoy

  Ebook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  About Blushing Books

  Chapter One

  Holly fretted, walking, pacing, back and forth, around, up and down the stairs. She could not stop moving. Knowing what was coming, what was going to happen when he got home later this afternoon.

  What she deserved. Yes. Desired even.

  But not really.

  Holly hit the wooden corner post of the stairs as she marched up them. Why couldn’t anything be easy? Why did she have all these conflicted feelings?

  She read a lot—maybe too much—online about how other people did things and what happened in their relationships. Desiring to be someone who just accepted her life was freaking hard. Especially when she didn’t want this kind of life, but she so totally did want it. Challenging. Conundrum. It was her choice. Always.

  So why didn’t it feel that way sometimes?

  Pacing, she decided not to think about that aspect anymore. Just, why had she done it? Well, she knew why. It soothed her nerves, eased her mind, and she hadn’t wanted to wake him. It was force of habit. Not her fault! In her last relationship, she’d not been allowed to ‘bother’ him with her feelings, nerves, or what she termed her nightmare cycle.

  A few times a month, she had several days in a row where her nightmares were bad. Strong, intense, very real. She would wake up sobbing and terrified.

  The last male she’d shared her bed with always told her, “Holly, go back to sleep and change your dream.” And that just wasn’t an option. She tried, she really did, but it didn’t help and it wouldn’t stop them or make the terrified feeling go away.

  So, she found something that did. Vodka.

  Just a little shot in the middle of the night. Not normally much of a drinker, she found that it immediately soothed her mind and made the shakes and jitters go away, so she could go back to sleep. She did love that burn as it hit her throat, and then the calm that came almost immediately after. Sometimes she wondered if it was a placebo, it worked so quickly. Honestly, though, who cared, as long as it worked, and eased her fears. And it did work, very well.

  The last man in her life and bed didn’t care what she did to make herself feel better, as long as he got his sleep needs in. She could understand that. She liked sleep too, after all! Though, when he wanted her in the middle of the night, sleep needs didn’t matter then, and that didn’t seem quite fair, but she lived with it.

  This male, her husband, Eric, cared. He did not want her turning to something else for comfort when he was right next to her. She was allowed—no, she was required to wake him up.

  But really, it had been the third night in a row that she’d awakened him, and she could tell it was wearing on him. He had a very mentally strenuous job, and surely needed his sleep. Plus, she smiled, she kept him up too much anyway with her “needs,” as he teasingly called them.

  She’d never had sex before like the sex she had with him, and there was no way she was doing without as long as he was ready and willing. So far he was ready and more than willing as often as she was. She appreciated that about him.

  Most of the time, too, she appreciated the firm hand he had with her. Something in her nature needed it, but geez. Did he have to tell her in the morning she was getting her butt blistered when he got home from work? That was a long time to wait, and get antsy and nervous.

  Besides, she reasoned with herself as she paced, it wasn’t fair. She had just done it for him. She woke up in the night, shaking and afraid, again, but not screaming, so he’d stayed asleep. She thought about waking him up, but chose to let him get his much-needed rest. She w
as thoughtful! That’s all it was! It was consideration! Why did he not understand that? Was he happy and grateful? No. He took it as a personal affront. Like she deliberately disobeyed him. Why would he think that?

  Because technically that was what she’d done. Holly sighed and rounded the corner again, bare feet sinking into the soft carpet on the stairs. Who needed a stair machine or a treadmill? She had real stairs and nervous energy to work off.

  Instead of waking him up, she’d let him sleep, and sniffled her way to the kitchen, poured herself a shot of vodka, and downed it.

  It felt so good that she had one more. Then, feeling much better, much calmer and not afraid, and ready to go back to sleep, she turned to go back to bed. She let out a small shriek as she saw Eric standing in the doorway watching her. Startled. Not guilty. Just didn’t know he would be there, that’s all.

  He held out his arms and she rushed into them. After holding and comforting her, he led her back to bed, and made sweet gentle love to her until she fell asleep in his arms, happy, sated, and not afraid.

  Then this morning….

  Waking up to the sound of the shower running, she stretched and debated joining him. Despite her midnight adventures, she felt great—refreshed, happy and ready to meet her day of work. Before she could get out of bed, the shower turned off, and she felt a pang of disappointment. Shower sex was oh so good, and they both got clean! Win-win.

  Eric walked out of the bathroom a minute later, wrapped in a green towel. His gray-blue eyes found hers and he smiled. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.

  “Good,” she purred. “How are you?”

  “Well, I’m irritated,” he replied, dropping the towel to let her feast upon the freshly scrubbed eye candy.

  Wet and resting, it was still extremely yummy. She bet she could change that resting thing in three, two, one… oh crap… what had he said? A sinking feeling engulfed her. Not good.

  “Were you out of shampoo?” she asked, innocently, though she knew exactly what he was upset about. Man, this was not how she wanted to start her day. She had a meeting this morning and didn’t want to be squirming on a hot butt while listening to her boss hand out new assignments. She wanted to be there, eager and excited, and ready to grab the best ones, not concentrating on trying to sit still. Eric wouldn’t... yeah, he would, she realized. She sighed.

  Her mouth opened and she began an excuse.

  “No. Just stop,” he commanded, and she obediently shut her mouth.

  That counts as behaving, she thought. Maybe? She hoped it did.

  “I have to be at work early, so your little butt is safe for now. But tonight when I get home, I want to see my wife in the corner, her pale ass on display for me, ready for the paddling she doesn’t want. You will not be sneaking drinks in the middle of the night again, and I’m going to give you a lesson you won’t forget. Do you understand me?”

  Oh, no, Holly moaned silently. ‘The paddling you don’t want’ meant pure punishment. No fun. It was one that left her giving dancing lessons as she howled and high stepped and stomped around the room trying to put out the fire in her well scorched behind. He was so very right. She didn’t want that.

  “Yes, sir,” she said meekly. “I thought you weren’t mad since…” her voice trailed off.

  “You thought I wasn’t mad since I did what I would have done if you woke me up like you were supposed to, right?” He fixed her with a stare that made her wiggle and pull the covers up higher. She’d forgotten she was naked and suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  “Yes,” she said, faintly.

  “No,” he said flatly. “I will never be mad at you for waking me up. I will be mad at you for sneaking drinks instead of coming to me for comfort. We’ve discussed it a hundred times. You know that, and you flat out disobeyed me, and lied by sneaking around.”

  Holly started to cry, she couldn’t help it. She felt so bad right now.

  He raised his eyebrow at her. “Seriously? Better save the tears for tonight. You’re going to need them. Maybe after I’m done and you’re able to sit down, we’ll have a beer or some wine with dinner. Adults can drink, but there is no reason to sneak around. Especially when you need them for something I can give you. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir.” Holly tried to stop the tears. She didn’t want to dance around the room holding her hot bottom. She didn’t want to be begging and squalling over his lap. Would he use the paddle? His belt? She whimpered, softly. “Please?” She asked, not sure what she asked for.

  He did though.

  “Yes. I love you enough to paddle your butt when you need it. Count on it.” Eric pulled on the rest of his clothes and said, “Coffee will be done in a few minutes. Are you eating with me?”

  Holly nodded, hoping her nervous stomach would let her eat. Would be a long tummy-grumbling day otherwise.

  Who was she kidding? It was going to be a very long day, knowing what was coming at the end of it. What she deserved, and desired, and hated, and didn’t want, and yet still craved.

  * * * * *

  Holly pulled her thoughts back to the present time and reality. Dang, was that his car pulling into the driveway?

  While most of her spankings were given in the bedroom so they could have much fun during and after in comfort, she knew by now that the paddlings she didn’t want were given in his office. She’d only had a handful of them over the years, but each one was memorable in its own way. Guess she was adding one more to her memory list today. Not some of her favorite memories, at all.

  After a very distracted day at work though, she’d gotten two of the coveted assignments she wanted, so yay! At least that was good. She’d come home, changed into a long yellow t-shirt, and gray shorts with an elastic waist. The zippered kind often fell to her ankles before she wanted them to. Throwing some chicken and rice into the slow cooker, she hoped she would be able to enjoy it later on. Who knew? Maybe she’d eat standing up. Maybe not at all. She could smell it cooking and her stomach rumbled, but whether from hunger or nerves, she didn’t know. Did it matter? Not really.

  Shaking just a little, she slipped into his office, listening for the garage door to go down again. As soon as it did, she walked to the corner, dragging her feet. Was this really happening? She was a grown woman! She had a good job! She didn’t need spanked like a child and she did not want to stand in the corner like a naughty toddler.

  Yet, there she was. Nose in the corner, she pushed her shorts to her thighs, along with her pale pink panties, and fisted her t-shirt in her hand, so her bare bottom was on display. He would walk in and see just what he wanted to see.

  His wife, waiting obediently for her spanking.

  His office was dark, the darkest room in the house, but very comfortable. The thick dark carpet felt good under her bare feet, and she curled her recently pedicured toes into it. She wondered if he would notice her new color. Probably not, he’d be too busy focusing on the color of her bottom.

  Books lined the walls, many of them collector items from his grandfather, who had been a very well read lawyer. She’d loved his grandpa. What would grandpa think if he knew Eric was going to paddle her butt? He had been an old-fashioned man, and probably would have highly approved. Holly sighed and peeked over to the clean, organized desk.

  His desk was huge, cherry wood, an antique, also handed down from his grandfather. She’d been bent over it a few times for some fun play. She eyed the armless chair in the corner, knowing if he was serious—and she was quite certain he was—he’d pull it to the middle of the room, and she’d go over his knee. It was the only way he could control her wiggles and urge to flee. And he managed it so easily, as if she wasn’t five foot five and a hundred and plenty pounds, but more like a spitting kitten.

  Half smiling, as she heard his footsteps coming her way, she knew that despite her fear of the pain of the paddling, she could not live any other way, now that she experienced him. His ways, his kindness, consideration and thoughtfulness, his s
weetness and his dominance. She loved all of it.

  But she didn’t want to be spanked.

  Although, despite her true wish not to be paddled, she knew she would lose some respect for him and be greatly disappointed in him, if he didn’t follow through. She knew before she married him, that he’d be a spanking husband. She accepted it then, and she accepted it now. But, you know, he could let her off now and then! Or maybe just not spank as hard….

  Holly sighed, and her shoulders drooped, there was no doubt it would happen. It was not up to her, but him. Before too long, she’d be howling and begging him to stop. Why did she do this to herself? What was wrong with her programming?

  The door opened, and she felt, rather than heard, him walk in the room.

  “Good girl, that’s what I wanted. How long have you been there, waiting?” he asked.

  “Forever,” she replied. “Seems like it, anyway.”

  “I imagine it does,” he said. “You know what’s going to happen, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” she bent her head into the corner and sniffled, almost convincingly. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

  Eric chuckled, “Oh, I can almost guarantee that, but only time will tell, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said feeling the cool air on her trembling bottom. She had better appreciate it while it lasted, she thought. Hot would happen soon enough.

  Blushing, she knew he was eyeing her bottom, and fought the urge to drop her shirt. Give the man what he wanted, was her motto, and he wanted to see her ass.

  “Pull your shorts down and off. You won’t need them the rest of the night,” he commanded.

  Whimpering slightly, she did as she was told. The rest of the night? When her shorts pooled at her feet, she kicked them off and behind her.