Melanie tried to say something, in fact she started to twice, but there were just no words to express how completely lost she felt, on this, which should have been the best day of her new life with Tony.
Chapter Eight
"At least I can walk around in here now," Melanie told her husband, as she strolled around the newly refurbished gazebo. The planks still smelled like fresh cut pine trees, they were so new and clean; their pale tan surface was such a contrast to the old squeaky boards that were now thrown in a heap at the far end of the yard. She missed the quaint antique feel of the older gazebo, this was practically a different species altogether. Nice, but not the same ambiance that would transport her into another world.
"It's sturdy, and once the painting is done it will look almost like the old one," Tony pointed out.
"I guess."
"Hey, why the gloomy face?" he asked. He pulled his wife to him, surrounding her in his arms.
"I don't know, this is all going so fast, I can't keep up. My mind is reeling."
"I took over this project just so your mind wouldn't have to reel. You have better things to do than let yourself run around in circles over this house. I think the way things have turned out is a stroke of genius." He reached down and patted Melanie on the bottom.
She smiled softly, though she wasn't sure if she agreed with Tony's evaluation of the most recent turn of events in their marriage. The spanking, well . . . . it was quite a rush. Finally having relinquished herself to it, it provided an extraordinary erotic turn on, as well as satisfying a need in her to have her sometimes sullen behavior checked. At least that's what she presumed. The few times over Tony's lap, had all been met with the same wonderful, but curious mixture of feelings.
"I guess I'm still a little resentful of your control," she admitted.
"You'd better not be," Tony warned. "I've heard enough of your complaints. You're making some choices in the house, color, wallpaper, all those things, but I'm taking care of everything else, and you'd better accept that!"
She started to pout, even as she remained securely in his arms.
"Don't start," he warned, his pointed index finger tapped her lightly on the nose. He'd never figured that he'd have such opposition to his plans to take over the renovations. It seemed that Melanie just couldn't let go of the house and the strong meaning it had for her; as if she really wanted to build it again all by herself, brick by brick, board by board, nail by nail. It had been three days since their last fight, the spanking that followed and the stunning announcement of Tony's plans. She was still pouting. "I want you to cheer up," he said sternly. "Stop whining about this, and go on to something else. You hear me?"
Melanie liked hearing him talk to her that way, adamant and forceful. It gave her a brief shiver every time he lowered his voice in that warning tone. There was tension already building in her again, and though she tried to fight it, she couldn't seem to help herself.
"I need to feel useful here, Tony, and since I don't, I was thinking perhaps I'd take a real trip. Spend a week or two doing some shopping for the house, and let this work get done." She looked at him hopefully, thinking the offer sounded reasonable.
"You will not go anywhere!" he immediately replied. "You take off, I'm going with you."
"Then go with me," she suggested. "We could have a little vacation, we certainly need it."
"You know that's impossible," he replied.
"Well then, let me go, I'll be out of your hair."
"I don't want you out of my hair, I want you here."
"But I'm so useless."
"Only because you're making mountains out of molehills, and far too much of this damned house." His voice was rising in anger, a sharp edge that should have made her stop, but it didn't.
"I'm NOT making mountains out of molehills. You want to keep me captive in this place, shove the whole damned mess in my face, gloat like the devil over your triumph." She was sounding shrill.
"That's enough!" Tony said. His look was devastating. He pulled away from her, peered at her with one eye, as she watched his chest seemed to expand, all puffed up with his brewing anger.
"Is that so?" she replied haughtily. Closer to the steps of the gazebo than Tony, she suddenly bolted out the opening, and dashed toward the house. She was going upstairs to pack.
Tony looked at her shaking his head, wondering what to do with his perplexing wife. He sure as hell wasn't going to let her get away with disappearing at the drop of a hat. If another round over his lap was necessary, then so be it.
Melanie had the suitcase on the bed, and a bunch of her lingerie thrown inside when Tony stormed after her into their bedroom.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked. He hoped he would find her pouting, not ready to leave.
"Going on my trip," she announced plainly, with just enough of a petulant tone to make her husband more furious.
"You little brat!" he seethed. His eyes were flashing wildly. It was so startling, Melanie had a hard time concentrating on her own "justified" wrath.
"Call me anything you want," she answered sassily. She was taunting him shamelessly. Maybe it was a test of Tony's resolve. Maybe this was to define the limits in the changing complexion of their marriage, maybe it was simply foolish; but she knew that she was bringing the moment to an explosive head with every snappy retort she ripped off her tongue.
"Unpack now!" Tony demanded.
"No," she answered defiantly. She went about pulling things from her dresser, and throwing them into the suitcase. She was so on automatic that she wasn't even considering the things she was packing. It looked more like she was leaving for good than just a few days.
"You're not giving me much choice, are you?" Tony said.
"Choice? What do you mean?"
Tony didn't waste any more words. He whipped around and pulled open the top drawer of his bureau and pulled out the spanker that he had discovered in the attic.
Taking Melanie by the arm, he pulled her to the bay window in their room where there was a chair just waiting for him. Sitting down, he pulled his wife over his lap and pulled up her cotton shift, revealing just a pair of cotton panties underneath.
Briskly tugging at the waistband, he yanked them down.
"Ouch!" Melanie protested. "You stop this now! This is NOT the time to paddle my bottom."
"It most certainly is. You're going to stop this pouting, and whining, and bratty nonsense once and for all."
Seeing Melanie's quivering white bottom, he could think of nothing but the delicious sight of her ass cheeks covered with a blushing red burn. Raising his arm with the spanker in his hand, he brought it down firmly on his wife's behind.
SMACK!
The sound was remarkable, the explicit snap of the leather seemed to echo through the room. Bringing his arm back again, he gave her another fierce whack. And then another and another. A regular cadence of smacks resounded through the cool morning air. And in no time, her beautiful posterior was quivering madly and blushing with a soft pink glow.
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!
At first, shocked by the sudden explosion of anger the two had unleashed, Melanie said nothing. Indeed, the first smacks of the leather, while their noise vibrated through the air, weren't all that painful. They were sharp and quick, instantly making her body heat rise deliciously, but they hardly hurt.
Yet, as Tony continued with the spanker, another snap of the leather and another still, the sensations turned into something altogether different. And Melanie, regaining some sense of what was happening, began to wiggle against her husband's legs and groan nastily. Her anger poured out all the more; and she began a spirited protest, as if she could throw herself from Tony's lap and get away.
"Stop it now!" she roared. The burn on her bottom was becoming ferocious. But, it was clear that Tony wasn't going to obey her command. Then again, he never did, why would he now?
"I'm stopping when I want to stop," he reminded her. "And you might want to lower your voice,
unless you want the whole house to know that you're getting spanked."
Tony's reminder came none too soon. Melanie was about to cry even more loudly, but the idea that the workmen below might hear her vociferous wails above the noise of their hammers scared her into smothering her cries. Instead of crying, she wiggled and squirmed until Tony's right leg went over her flailing lower limbs to hold them down, so she was completely pinned.
The spanker came down again and again, Tony not letting up for even a second. With no other choice but admit she was conquered, her body ended its pitched battle.
Responding to the change, Tony slowed his furious pace, and with a few well aimed smacks to her wild red rear, he then stopped, and laid the warm spanker on her bottom.
Trying to calm herself, Melanie sobbed for a few seconds when she realized that the spanking was finished. Tony still held her fast, perhaps in anticipation of another battle, but there wouldn't be one. She'd given up, and the accompanying feeling was quite pleasant if she admitted it to herself. The burning sensation on her bottom was fast becoming a warm sensuous experience, that she might have relished, if Tony had encouraged it. Unfortunately, he didn't.
"There now," he announced, as he pushed her from his lap. She slumped to the floor and looked up at him, waiting for him to speak. "Are you going to stop this nonsense about leaving?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm sorry, I was just so tense with all the change."
"Well, you'd better get used to it," he said, referring to the spanker that was still in his hand. He waved it in her face in a threatening gesture. "I'm not going to put up with you acting like an immature spoiled brat, which is exactly what you've been acting like the last three days. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she replied.
"A grown woman has no business behaving as if she was some hormone crazed teenager."
"I'm really sorry." He was very right, even though it was painful to admit her silliness.
"You're my wife, and you'll stay right here where you belong?" he continued scolding her.
"Yes," she answered.
"You don't leave," he enunciated. "You don't go running off, and you quit acting as if I've suddenly ruined your life by taking over a project that you couldn't handle. You have lots of things you could be doing, I suggest that you dive into those and forget about the house. If I have any questions I'll ask you, otherwise, you pleasantly watch the renovations take place, and enjoy the process, instead of treating it as the worse disaster of your life." His last fierce stare punctuated his message.
"You think I'm too attached to this house don't you?" Melanie suggested.
"You're damned right. It's not healthy for you, or me or our marriage. Now find something to keep you happily busy. You think you could do that?"
"Sure," she replied. He was very sexy when he was pissed off. The last half hour was going straight into lust. Melanie couldn't wait for the pleasant finale. She placed her hands on Tony's muscular thighs, and massaged them gently, as she looked longingly into her his eyes.
"Maybe we could really patch things up now . . . . " she offered with a seductive look he found hard to ignore.
"Not now, I've got work to do," he said, even though he really wanted to drop everything and screw her silly. "Besides, I want you to realize that your spanking was punishment, not sex. As long as I'm going to use this on your misbehaving behind, you might as well understand that I'm not just playing around."
Melanie tried to smile. She was about to cry again, but she didn't want to show him her tears. She was so mixed up inside. If he'd make love to her, then maybe it would be okay. But to be punished the way she had been, with no sexual interlude following, really rankled her. He was making her look at her behavior and see it for what it was; and it was not a pleasant look.
She watched as Tony rose from the chair and returned the spanker to his bureau drawer. Before he left the room, he turned back to her.
"We'll be together later, but I think it's time you gave a few things a good hard look," he said. "And put these things away right now. You make another move to leave here, and you'll think the smacks you got just now were love taps."
Melanie nodded to him as she watched him leave the room, closing the door behind him.
***
Melanie cleaned up the bedroom, put the suitcase and all her clothes away. She knew that her rash move was silly, but she was still so confused she wasn't sure what she thought about anything anymore, least of all her husband, and the control he suddenly exerted over her.
She finally left the room determined to find something to keep her occupied that would suit her, and keep her out of Tony's way.
Downstairs, she was on her way to the kitchen, when she heard voices coming from Tony's office, and she stopped to listen. The door was half open, but she was out of Tony's sight and could hear the conversation without being seen.
"Quite a battle with the misses." Melanie recognized the voice of one of the workman speaking.
"Yes, but I think things are handled."
"She's quite a spitfire, a bit like my own Beth," the man went on. She knew exactly who it was that was talking to Tony. Their conversation confirmed her worst fears, the paddling had not gone unnoticed by the others in the house. How embarrassing!
"You spank your wife too?" Tony asked the man, curiously.
"Yeah, when she gets to acting bitchy. She seems to really need a good taste of my belt."
Melanie shivered at the thought of the man removing his belt from his trousers, doubling it over, and using it to punish his wife's upturned rear end. Beth. She said the name to herself, realizing that she knew the workman's wife. What a coincidence! At least she wasn't alone with this strange spanking aspect to married life.
"You been doing this a long time?" Tony asked, genuinely curious.
"Few years. It's good for our marriage, and even better for the bedroom. If you know what I mean?" the man continued.
"I know exactly what you mean," Tony replied. "The practice seems a little archaic, but it was Melanie's idea in the first place. I think we'll be glad we discovered it, as long as we can get through the next few weeks, and all the hassles with this house."
"You'll be glad," the man assured him. "A good blushing bottom is the best thing for an unruly wife."
"Let's hope this does some good this time," Tony said, as if he still wasn't sure.
Melanie, frozen in her tracks, could hardly pull herself away, but she didn't want to be discovered eavesdropping. The potential for embarrassment was mounting each minute. Thinking that the workman was about to leave Tony's office, she scampered up the back staircase. Not stopping at the second floor, she went straight up to the attic, and didn't stop moving until she plopped herself down in the overstuffed chair by the half moon window.
Sitting down, she could still feel her bottom; the lovely glowing warmth of her punished cheeks had not completely vanished. It was a comforting feeling, but the thoughts that accompanied the foray with Tony were not comforting at all. She had the sneaking suspicious that she opened, or rather Aunt Daisy had opened a can of worms, and she would not easily extricate herself from this spanking domain. Yet, even though she thought it was horrible, she loved it, and that was at the heart of her mixed feelings. Maybe she never would want to stop.
At least for now, the attic was safe. It was the one place in her house where the workmen had not yet gone. She was sure that Tony would eventually bring them up here too. Looking around there were a number of things that needed to be repaired in the highest place of the house. She only hoped that it wouldn't be today, wanting the time alone, and this the only place she could find any peace.
Melanie stared for sometime at the gazebo outside. It really was very pretty. A fresh coat of white paint, and she wouldn't be able to tell that it was new. The exterior still had much of the old structure, since it was just the foundation that needed repair. The workmen had even tried to preserve the lovely vines that were entangled about it, giving it even
more shade from the heat of the summer sun. She imagined the cool breezes hitting her face as she rocked in the repaired swing. She could even imagine Tony joining her on that swing, the two of them spending a romantic evening in the midst of that special aura.
Turning away from the view, she glanced down to see her Aunt's trunk sitting to one side, exactly where she'd pushed it a few days before when she'd tried to read another except from the journal. So swiftly rocked from the peace and quiet of the moment by Tony's startling actions on the house, she hadn't had the time to go back to the book she treasured so much.
Now was the perfect moment. She'd be out of Tony's way, out of the workman's way, and away from the eyes of anyone that had overheard the spanking. She couldn't think of a more perfect solution.
Opening the trunk Melanie found the journal where she left it thrown against the dresses stored there. Opening the book, she shuffled through the old pages and came to the place where she'd last read.
It all began last Thursday night . . .
Yes, her Aunt had announced that she and Joseph had been married! She read on.
Joseph arrived at my door step. He was on leave, much to my great surprise and pleasure. I still swoon so much when I see him, especially now when he's in that great Navy uniform.
I could feel this fire inside him. I'm not certain what it was all about, but I knew that there was something special in the wind. There was a determination and strength I felt from him, something unique, something I often felt when he was about to put me over his lap and spank me. Even so, this was different than that. There was a darker air about him, I'm still not sure what it meant; but I think he's afraid, afraid of this war and of our not being together. To add to that, there was a melancholy that I've not felt from Joseph before. I think perhaps the "times" are getting to my normally sunny, self assured love.
"I want to marry you tonight," he announced.
"Tonight?" I was dumbfounded. I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
"Yes, tonight," he repeated. "I have three days, and I want to be with you Daisy Markham. I don't want to wait to have every bit of you. Not anymore."
Aunt Daisy's Secret Page 7