by Lee Savino
At the door to the bedroom, she stopped at the sight of the hairbrush, cane, and the small paddle that was really a re-appropriated bread board, lying on the bed in a row. Johnathan turned and settled his hands on her hips, blocking her view.
“Dearest, do you know why you’re receiving correction?”
“I acted recklessly and put my life and the building structure in danger.”
He raised her chin so she looked at him. “You are a good woman. A wonderful wife and a true friend. But these last few weeks you seem to be growing less happy and more wild. Can you tell me why?”
Esther’s green eyes stared into his, and to him they seemed a little sad. But she just shook her head, and his heart sank. He wanted her to be able to talk to him. The more he thought about it, the more he knew something was in her head, poisoning her actions.
“I care for you very, very much,” Johnathan said. When he didn’t know what to say, he reminded her of his love. As a learned man, he knew the power of words. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Johnathan.”
“That is why I take the time to correct you. Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
He stepped back. “Remove your clothes and lean over the bed.” As she obeyed, he rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms. He hated seeing her so upset. A maintenance session followed by a good long cry always helped her feel herself. He’d been reluctant to introduce regular spankings, but as their marriage went on, Esther had practically asked for it, and he could tell that they made her feel closer to him. It helped that a little pain seemed to arouse her.
When Esther was in position, he stepped to her side, but ran his hands down her back and over her bottom, savoring the moment. Five and a half years of marriage and he still couldn’t believe this beauty was his to love, to possess, to command.
To discipline.
“I’m going to start with your regular maintenance. A warm up, followed by a hand spanking, then a few with the paddle. If you’re very good, I’ll skip the hairbrush. Then you’re getting ten with the cane.”
Her head dropped, and her legs quivered a little. Ten was a harsh punishment with the long wooden implement, but he needed to break her will. His wife couldn’t go on climbing things and trying to destroy herself.
After squeezing her bum for a minute, he started swatting. As usual, Esther’s firm white globes heated immediately, turning a pleasing pink. He felt a rush of pleasure and paused to readjust his pants before starting to slap her cheeks with more force. Esther mewed a little, clenching her bottom with the strikes, but she was a seasoned submissive, and this punishment was little more than a warm up. His hand danced up one buttock and down the other, taking care to pay attention to her sit spots. He wanted her to feel sore for a day or so, and remember why he disciplined her.
Her bottom was a dusky pink before he paused and took a step back to admire his handiwork. His wife waited, face down on the quilt, not moving a muscle as he inspected her. Sure enough, her lower lips glistened with a slight wetness between her legs, evidence of her arousal. He smiled. His wife wouldn’t be cumming tonight, but he had plans for her pussy.
Placing his hand on the small of her back, he decided to eschew the hairbrush. He’d found early on that just a spanking or paddling didn’t have as much of an effect on his wife, but switching implements halfway through a maintenance session allowed her to feel the pain, and contrition, anew. Otherwise she enjoyed it too much.
He picked up the paddle and smacked it against his hand, letting her know what was coming next. She didn’t speak, but her hands went to either side of her head and fisted in the quilt. Tapping the flat wood surface against her rosy cheeks, he took aim and gave her a smack at half strength. She jumped, but stayed down, and he gave her another one with a little more force. Her skin reddened, and he lost himself in the strikes, watching her bottom heat up all over. At one point, he took a break and hovered his hand over her skin, feeling the heat rise into his palm.
“Five more,” he muttered, and angled the paddle to catch the bottom of the curve of her buttock, right under her sit spots.
“Oh.” Her breath caught, and he laid on the rest, until a tear trickled out of her eyes.
“Esther,” he called until she looked at him. “Go stand in the corner for a few minutes, and think about what you did last week, and how you can behave better.”
As she hurried to the corner, he could see the tears starting down her cheeks. He hated the sight, even as he knew it was what she needed.
Settling himself in his old armchair at the corner of their bedroom, he studied his wife. Esther was a foot shorter than him, but perfectly formed. Her blonde hair hung loose halfway down her back, her tiny waist peeking out from behind the golden sheen. Just below, her roasted bottom glowed, then tapered to shapely thighs and calves. In all his years of medical study and travel, he’d never seen a more beautiful woman. Not just her form, which was certainly pleasing, but her spirit, which could light up a room. Lately, though, it had been a storm cloud. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she was troubled. He’d caught glimpses of a saddened face, and once, red-rimmed eyes. Once or twice he’d asked after it, but with the duties of a minister, his many patients, and the new building, he hadn’t taken the time to really draw her out and listen.
He felt a pang. He was her husband, her leader, and had vowed to put her care before his own. And here she was, reduced to acting out to get his attention. His heart twisted.
After a few more minutes, he took her hand and brought her back to the foot of the bed. Taking out his handkerchief, he dried her eyes, then caught her chin.
“Darling, is there something you want to tell me? You know whatever it is, you can speak the truth.”
She stayed silent, but the tears started anew. This time, he took her in his arms and let her face press into his chest, soaking his shirt.
At last, sniffling, she raised her head.
“You ready to tell me?”
She shook her head.
“But you know you can, at any moment.”
She nodded.
“Very well, Esther. We’ll finish your punishment, then we can talk.” He stepped back, feeling the mantle of disciplinarian settle on his shoulders. “Go get the cane.”
She paled, but did as he commanded. He took a few practice swings while she moved into position, enjoying the swishing sound.
“Ten. Count them.” The long wooden length sliced across her bottom, leaving two thin parallel stripes, and she immediately stiffened, a squeak escaping from her lips. He waited.
“One, sir.”
The next followed quickly, two more red lines appearing on her dusky cheeks, and when she hesitated, he let the cane swish through the air for her to hear.
“Two, sir!”
“That’s right, Esther. Be quick to the count, or receive another.”
At his stern words, he noted how her juices started to flow down her legs.
With a smile, he laid a few more on the backs of her thighs, and she kept the count perfectly. At the sixth, she came up on her toes, leaning over the bed as if to escape.
“We’ll take a break,” he said. “Wait here.”
Stepping out, he returned with a glass of water. Esther’s face was wet and red, but she thanked him and accepted his kiss on her cheek.
“You’re doing so well,” he said. “My brave, beautiful Esther.”
She almost smiled through her tears, and he knew they were reaching the end.
When he ordered her back into position, she went almost eagerly. The next few strikes, he didn’t hold back, and Esther cried out after each one. By nine, she was well and truly sobbing. He waited a few moments between each stroke, letting her cry it out.
“Ten,” she choked out at last, and he set the cane down. He left her for a brief moment, returning with a pitcher of water and drinking a glass before drawing her up and offering one to her. She sipped slowly while he brushed the
sweaty strands of hair back from her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said and gulped.
“You’re forgiven.” For a while he just held her, head bowed over hers. She sniffled and sighed, cheek to his shirt. The wet fabric stuck to her skin when she raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. Slowly she started to sink to her knees before him.
“Dearest,” he murmured.
“Please, Johnathan.” She looked up at him, one hand on the front of his trousers, waiting until he nodded permission. She undid his buttons and drew him out, and he leaned back against the bed so her head could comfortably reach him.
As soon as she kissed him, his cock jumped against her lips, and he gripped the footboard. His fingers dug in as she nuzzled him, her tongue flicking out to taste him. Her hot breath teased him, and one hand shot out to fist in her hair.
“Esther,” he warned. Her mouth opened and accepted him. As she sucked, her eyes flickered up to his, and he nearly lost it. The sight of him sliding between her soft lips while she gazed up in submission was enough to send tingles through his entire body.
Then her tongue flattened along the base of his member, and she surged forward, taking him as far into her mouth as she could. His head fell back, and his grip tightened in her hair. He came crying out her name.
When it was done, she leaned back and licked her lips. With her hair spilling over her shoulders and green eyes flicking up to his with a dazed expression, she looked like a siren designed for his every pleasure. Her smile curved her mouth, and his cock started to stir again, as if the sight of her could turn back time and transform him into a lusty boy.
“Thank you,” she said, and he felt a surge of love and amazement at this woman whose submission was so deeply ingrained in her psyche.
He helped her up and kissed her, hands running down her naked body. Under his touch her whole body trembled.
“No, Esther. Naughty girls don’t get release.” He took her hand and led her to the bed, tucking in behind her. His hand cupped her breast, thumb brushing her nipple.
She shifted and moaned, and he felt himself harden further. His intent was to leave off lovemaking and let her stew all the night, so in the morning she’d be ready for all he had planned. He couldn’t help teasing her nipple further, pinching it a little between thumb and forefinger until it stiffened and she gasped.
“Do you desire me, wife?”
“Yes,” she said in a low, breathy voice.
“Good.” He took his hand away and pulled her closer, his arms tangling with hers to hold them in place. She wouldn’t dare rub her bottom, but her fingers might venture between her legs in sleep. “Sweet dreams, dearest,” he said, and at her desperate sigh, he smiled in her hair.
Waking in the middle of the night, he almost started the second stage of his strategy, but his wife was sleeping so soundly, the moonlight gilding her face and hair, that he lay back down, and made himself wait until dawn.
As soon as the first fingers of light stole over the horizon, he stroked her hair back until she was awake.
“Morning,” she whispered.
“Good morning, dearest. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.” She started to roll on her back, and stopped, wincing.
“Lie on your stomach, darling. I want to inspect you.”
A pause, then she obeyed. Johnathan often performed “inspections” of her body, which he claimed had a medical purpose, but in truth always ended in pleasure.
He had plans for his wife today.
Standing, he pulled away all the blankets, and looked down in satisfaction. His wife’s blonde hair spilled over the coverlet, her beautiful green eyes watching him in her pale, sleep-softened face. Her fine shoulders and back tapered to a tucked in waist, then flared out into her generous bottom.
His hand stroked down her beautiful form, admiring the pale skin of her back and hips, especially contrasted with her bright red buttocks. His fingers caressed a hip, and as they traced the cane marks, Esther shuddered.
“Shhh, darling, I’m not going to hurt you. Today is all about your pleasure.” He sat down to get closer to her, and gripped either hip, his thumbs stroking the hollow of her back. “Now, let’s see what we have here. Patient, twenty-eight years of age. Very lovely in face and form, and subject to recent discipline.” He massaged her back a little. “There seems to be no damage to the lower back or vertebrae, and her coccyx was unharmed. Very important in disciplinary practices, particularly when the subject is your beautiful, but disobedient wife.”
His hands went to the back of her thighs and caressed up and down her legs. “Note that a few of the punishing strokes fell on the legs, which is perfectly acceptable. The disciplinarian obviously had a careful and practiced hand.” He scooted forward, large hands framing her delectable bottom. “Now, these stripes here; I can tell from this that the patient was very, very naughty.” His hand ghosted over the marks on her fleshy lobes, and she shuddered. “I count enough stripes for ten strikes of a cane—a significant punishment. Let’s hope the subject learned her lesson.” He paused, admiring the shade of roasted red that still remained, then continued thoughtfully. “It’s easy to break the skin with such a harsh implement. In fact, in many cases, an errant wife can bear marks forever. While these stripes will stay for some time, whoever caned this young woman took care to punish without leaving scars. In fact, I would propose he loved this woman very much, to take such care to impart a lesson without permanent harm.”
Johnathan took a break in his playful narrative, unable to stop himself from planting a gentle kiss on the marked skin. Esther made a small sound, but didn’t move.
“So now,” he said briskly. “Let’s see how she responds.” He slid a hand between her legs and she stiffened, raising herself up a little as he caressed her slippery folds. “Ah, yes! The subject is reacting to her husband’s touch. In fact, with further stimulation…” Frowning in concentration, he leaned down between her legs and blew hot air onto her labia. “I should be able to bring her to climax.”
Esther seemed to quiver with anticipation.
“Part your legs, my dear. Wider.” He smiled as she whimpered in humiliation. Esther loved his dominance and discipline, but she hated being aware of how her body responded to his firm and gentle touches alike. “Ah, yes, here we are.” His fingers stroked between her legs. “No doubt the subject is aroused. Plenty of secretions, labia is plump and sensitive. There’s the clitoral hood… but we’ll come back to that later.” He left off teasing her to slip a finger inside her slick channel. “Her body is ready for her husband’s entrance.” He withdrew his fingers, noting her disappointed cry.
“Let’s take a closer inspection,” he said, and positioned his face right between her legs, parting her buttocks and spreading her before him. Her breath caught as his fingers dug into her reddened flesh, but he noticed she only grew wetter. “The subject requires more stimulation to induce orgasm.” He sat back up. “Let’s see if we can provide it.” His fingers stroked her little nub, teasing until Esther grew wild, writhing and thrusting her bottom back onto his hands. At her breathy moans, he thrust two fingers into her sodden entrance, pumping them in a steady rhythm.
“Johnathan,” she panted.
“Yes, dear?” he asked, then slid his fingers deeper, crooking his fingers into a “come hither” motion. Her entire body stiffened, and her words dissolved into moans.
“Subject seems unable to communicate,” he noted with a grin. His wife’s reddened bottom danced on his fingers as her orgasm crashed over her, but he continued his fingers’ relentless pumping, even adding a third.
His own body was hard with wanting, but Johnathan focused on Esther’s pleasure, furrowing his brow in concentration as he continued to stroke her. At last, he brought soaked fingers to his lips. “Very nice. Very sweet.” He bent over Esther, who still lay on her belly, lips curved and eyes at half-mast.
“You all right, dearest?”
“Yes, Johnathan,” she murm
ured dreamily.
“Good.” His hand lightly smacked the side of her hip, and she jumped. “Then up and stand in the middle of the rug.” He grinned at her widened eyes. “Your inspection’s not over.”
* * *
The rooster’s morning crowing mingled with Esther’s cries of pleasure.
Afterward they lay tangled on the bed, Johnathan had spent himself, but not before he’d caused his wife to climax over and over. She lay limp next to him, as if she didn’t have any bones.
“You’re a good wife, and a blessing. I want you to be happy. Next time we’re about, we’ll find a tree sturdy enough for you to climb. I’ll even help you into it. I don’t want you to lose your skill. Next summer we can go to Pike’s Peak and climb it—there’s a woman who’s done it. You’re perfection.”
She nodded, but seemed unhappy. He waited, trailing his fingers down her hair and back, admiring the pale curves and thick fall of gold in silence.
“Johnathan?”
“Yes, dearest?”
Esther raised herself up and swallowed hard. “Do you want children?”
“Yes, of course.”
She heaved a huge sigh. “If I can’t ever… if you wanted a child, and we never were able to… would you want to remarry?”
Leaning closer, he gripped her chin so she was looking straight at him when he said, “Never. I want you, Esther. A child would be a blessing, but if we never conceive, I swear I’ll not regret one moment I’ve spent with you.”
Tears filling her green eyes, his wife stared at him, her throat working with emotion. “I want a child. I had so many brothers and sisters.” Her sob broke from her then, and Johnathan wasted no time wrapping both arms around her and tucking her face to his chest. Her slender body shuddered against his, driving pain through his heart with her cries.
“Oh, Esther. Dear, dear Esther,” he murmured to her until her tears dried up, and she lay quiet in the shelter of his arms.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Sorry for grieving? Never apologize. You are not a burden to me, Esther. You are a joy.” His arms flexed around her. “Besides, I’m the one who must ask forgiveness.”