by Dinah McLeod
“If you continue to try to avoid punishment,” he continued as though I hadn’t spoken, “I will be forced to tie your hands, and restart your spanking.”
Tie my hands? He couldn’t be serious. At least, I hoped he wasn’t! I cried out as another set of spanks landed on my bottom. His hand felt like it was made of steel! Wasn’t it hurting him? Surely, not as much as my bottom was hurting me, but…
“Do you understand, Sara?”
“Yes, sir,” I agreed quickly, even though I didn’t agree with what he was suggesting at all. This was not the time to argue, though.
“In the future, you will have dinner ready for me when I come home. I will call ahead when I am leaving the office so you can have it on the table.”
I couldn’t help myself; I just had to say something. “That seems so prime evil and old fashioned!”
“I’m sorry that you feel that way, honey, but regardless, it’s what I expect.”
I huffed at him, but offered no further protests. No answer seemed to be required, anyway, because he began to spank me again. My cheeks felt red-hot, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg him to stop, particularly since he wasn’t listening to me anyway. I bit my lip to keep from crying out and tried to endure the burning swats.
He had me panting from the attempt to stay silent, and I was about to give in when he rested his arm on my back again. His fingers just barely touched my cheeks, and even that touch was enough to make me wince. Still, it felt kind of good, too.
“From here on out if you spend money you will write it in the checkbook and each night I will balance it. You also will need to ask my permission before spending any amount over fifty dollars.”
“What?” I gasped. Spankings, allowances…this is starting to feel like grade school all over again!
“That’s very reasonable, Sara. We are trying to save money so that we can buy a house. To do that, we have to make sacrifices. We both agreed that that was something we wanted to work toward, but it seems like you’re not willing to do what it takes to make that dream a reality for us.”
“But I can’t be bothered to call you every time I want to buy something,” I complained.
“Not every time. Anything that is fifty dollars or less is fine, so long as it is in the budget.”
“This is ridiculous, Ethan!”
“Why is it ridiculous?” He didn’t sound mad when he asked it, just curious. “The rule applies to both of us, so it’s completely fair. I won’t be out buying new golf clubs, or going out with the guys after work without asking you.”
I still wasn’t happy, but I knew these were things he enjoyed doing. It did seem like he was trying, too, so what complaint could I really make?
“I just don’t know, honey. This isn’t the type of marriage I thought I would have,” I mumbled, feeling sorry for myself.
“I understand that. Would you rather not be married to me?”
The question made my heart constrict. For a moment, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Of course not! How can you even ask that?”
“Well, then, we need to make some changes around here, honey. I know you may not think so right now, but in the long run you’ll be happier, too.”
He helped me up, and I tried to scramble away to go have a good cry in another room, but he kept me in place on his lap.
“Are you OK?”
“No, I’m not OK!” I snapped. “You just…you just…you’re a monster!” I said. As soon as the words were out, I started to sob. I leaned into his chest, soaking his shirt with my tears. Long before I was done I felt awful for what I’d said. Instead of admitting it, I continued to whimper into his shirt.
“Sara,” he whispered over and over as he stroked my hair. My eyelids felt so heavy. I just wanted to go to sleep, listening to the sound of my name on his lips. Strangely, I felt at peace and content, even if I didn’t know why. I should have been furious, like I had been just a few moments ago but the way he’s holding me, the love in his voice…it’s my undoing, and I can’t be mad anymore.
“I’m sorry, Ethan. I shouldn’t have said that,” I said finally.
“Maybe it’s not undeserved,” he said, and his long sigh made me look up at him. “I’m sorry, too, baby. I should have talked to you about all this. It’s just…I want things to be different around here. If you have any other ideas about how to accomplish that, I’m all ears.”
“I will make dinner on time,” I said, suddenly feeling shy as I smile at him. “I will write everything I buy in the checkbook and….and I will ask you before spending any money over a hundred dollars.”
He chuckled at me, and I couldn’t help but giggle, too. I was feeling so light-hearted and submissive. It was a strange feeling, but definitely not unpleasant.
“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Harris.”
“So I’ve been told, Mr. Harris.”
“OK,” he agreed, kissing the top of my head, “a hundred dollars, then. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about this before, but I want to make rules for our household, Sara. And I want you to agree to follow them.”
“But why do we need rules?”
“Because I want us to be the best we possibly can be, for each other and for any children we may have in the future. I want us to have a model to work toward, and I think we can accomplish that if we have our expectations written down.”
“Don’t you like me anymore?” I asked, hurt. “You used to say that I’m perfect just the way I am.”
“I will always love you, honey. But I think that you have behaviors that need to be curbed. Like that naughty tongue of yours, for example, or that infamous temper. I have to be honest with you, honey, I had no idea how bad either of those was before we were married.”
“So you want me to be someone I’m not?”
“No, Sara,” he replied. “I want you to be the best person you can be, and I think spanking you when you curse at me, or when you lose your temper will help you with those behaviors.”
“I don’t need you to spank me, Ethan. I can stop myself from doing those things, if I really want to.”
“OK. Well, maybe then the spankings will make you want to stop them.”
I didn’t like that response one bit. “What is it with you and this spanking thing all of a sudden? Is this some way for you to get your rocks off?” I demanded. As soon as the words leave my mouth I want to take them back. His jaw clenched, and I knew I’d said exactly the wrong thing again.
“Now, there you go. That is exactly what I meant about learning to control that tongue of yours. You think you can do it on your own? Great. I am happy to let you try. In the meantime, think about what I’ve said to you tonight.”
We didn’t talk much for the rest of the evening. We ate dinner mostly in silence. Admittedly, I was a little distant toward him, hoping that the silence might make him regret his words and take them back. He couldn’t mean that he really wanted to spank me regularly! I couldn’t accept that, and I wasn’t going to.
I did give in and snuggle with him while we watched a movie, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it. Even though the couch is soft, supple leather my bottom was still sore. I knew he noticed me squirming, but he didn’t say anything to draw attention to it.
That night as I was getting ready for bed, for some reason curiosity made me turn sideways and look at my rear in the mirror. Both of my plump globes were glowing a bright shade of red, and I could tell that I would be wearing a few minor bruises in the morning. The sight made me shiver, but I wasn’t sure if it was because I knew I wouldn’t be sitting comfortably at work tomorrow or because I felt a little turned on.
I mean, I didn’t enjoy the spanking, and I was definitely not enjoying the after affects but just remembering Ethan’s confidence, his sure and sexy tone made me smile. I knew I could be a handful, but he still loved me. Besides, it didn’t really matter now, did it? I was going to get better at watching my temper and we were going to find other ways. He’d s
aid so himself.
“What are you doing, Sara?” He called to me from the bed.
“Coming!” I replied, and in less than a minute I was eagerly climbing into bed with him.
He cuddled me close, caressing my hair until I fell asleep. I spent the entire night sleeping on my stomach, and not once did he let go of me.
Chapter 3
I found sitting to be very difficult the next morning. Instead, I occupied myself by doing anything to stay away from my office chair, even though the seat was nicely cushioned. I had been filing paperwork for the last two hours, and my sudden enthusiasm for a chore I normally dreaded had not gone unnoticed.
“Great work, Sara,” Mrs. Jones enthused, giving me a thumbs up. “I think you’ve nearly caught us up for the quarter!”
“Oh, well,” I shrugged, embarrassed at her attention. “I just noticed it was starting to get behind,” I mumbled. We were always behind on the filing, which was entirely my fault, but she just beamed at me.
I wondered what she would say if I blurted out the truth. I could say: Mrs. Jones, to be honest, my husband gave me a pretty hard spanking last night. My butt hasn’t been this sore in a long time! I wanted to call out sick, and stay home and feel sorry for myself, but I had a feeling that if I did that I would get yet another paddling from my husband on my already sore behind. So, instead, I’m filing papers so that I don’t have to sit in that darned chair!
The thought made me smirk even though I knew if I really were to tell her it would wipe the smile from her face. Then again, she was in her late sixties, so maybe she would understand more than I give her credit for. I gave my head a little shake, dismissing the thought even as a joke. I was never going to tell anyone. I would die of embarrassment if anyone even suspected that my husband spanked me like a little girl.
***
I arrived home in record time, and I didn’t even turn on the computer. I mean, even if I had wanted to play poker or check my email, it still hurt too much when I sat down. I had made a lot of copies and delivered mail on my lunch break just so that I could avoid sitting down to eat. Mrs. Jones was very appreciative and enthused about my new work ethic, and all I could do was smile weakly in response to her praise.
I quickly got to work preparing dinner. While the lasagna was in the oven, I tossed a salad and pulled a chocolate cake out of the freezer to defrost. Glancing at the timer I saw that there was still forty minutes left, so in the meantime I swept the floors, and even polished the table before setting it with our good china. Hopefully all my work would inspire leniency in my husband and we could put the horrible incident of last night behind us.
I’m going to do better, I thought to myself, a mantra I had found myself repeating a lot today. I had started to work up quite an appetite with all my cleaning, and it was somewhat of a relief when Ethan opened the door, even if it did make me jump.
He beamed at me like nothing is amiss. “Hey, sweetie. How was your day?”
I was still holding the mop, and my hands clung to it as tightly as if it were a life preserver keeping me safe in turbulent seas. Normally I stopped whatever I was doing the minute he walked in the door so that I could run to him and throw myself in his arms, but today I felt rooted to the spot.
“It was fine,” I answered quietly.
He brow furrowed as he looked at me. “Are you alright? You look…are you scared?”
I shrugged noncommittally. “I’m fine. Dinner is ready.”
He nodded, but he still hadn’t taken his eyes off me. They were filled with a mixture of confusion and concern. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. I made lasagna. Are you hungry?” I turned toward the kitchen, mop still in hand.
“Sara.” His voice was low and commanding, and a thrill ran through me at the sound of it. “Come here, please.”
Part of me wanted nothing more than to bury myself into his chest and cry, confessing all the confusion and anxiety I’ve been experiencing after what he has asked of me. The other part doesn’t want to risk upsetting him any further, so I turned to face him and walked toward him on stiff legs. I stopped a few feet in front of him, still holding back.
“Yes?”
“What’s wrong, baby?” He reached for me, and I let him pull me toward him. I tolerated his arms around me, even though I didn’t make a move to return his embrace. “You seem so… did something happen today?”
“No, nothing happened today.”
“Sara.” He tilted my chin up so that I had to look into his eyes. “Please don’t be cryptic. If you have something to say, then say it.”
“Oh, but I wouldn’t want to risk the consequences of speaking my mind, sir.”
His eyes widened and for a minute I wasn’t sure if he looked more shocked or angry. I knew I’d chosen the wrong words, the wrong tone. When would I ever learn?
“Go to the bedroom,” he ordered, and I knew I’d done it.
“I—your lasagna. You don’t want it to get cold.” My protests sounded feeble even to my own ears.
“I don’t intend to let it.” His tone was cool. “While you’re standing in the corner I intend to have my dinner.” His words had barely registered when he reached his arm around and gave me a hard swat. “Now, get moving.”
I didn’t hesitate for an instant, but hurried to our bedroom, berating myself all the way. Why do I keep doing this? I wondered time and again. After I just promised myself I wouldn’t get him upset! Was he going to spank me again? He couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t let him. My bottom was already too sore!
It felt like a lifetime before I heard Ethan come into the room. Even though he didn’t say anything, I could feel his eyes staring holes into the back of my shirt. I resisted the urge to turn around, even though I wanted to plead with him for mercy so badly that the urge was killing me.
“You can turn around now, Sara. I want you to come here.” He sat on the edge of the bed, and I walked toward him, stopping just inches in front of him. My heart was pounding loudly as I waited for him to take me over his knee. Instead, he patted the space beside him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, but the words were barely out of my mouth when he reached over and put two fingers to my lips.
“I don’t want you to apologize, babe. I appreciate it, but right now I want to talk. I want to let you know how disappointed I am in your behavior. I work hard, Sara, and every day I look forward to coming home to see you. I was so impressed with the housework you’d done, and dinner was wonderful. I wanted to tell you these things, but instead of letting me be proud of you, you decided to pout like a two-year-old. What’s going on with you, young lady?”
“I wasn’t pouting!” I declared, and I detected the slightest of grins on his face at my mulish tone. “I wasn’t. It’s just…I was alone today, and it gave me a lot of time to think.”
“And?”
“And I don’t like this!” I burst out, my voice filled with frustration.
“This?”
“You know what—the spankings! It has got to stop, Ethan, I mean it. I did not agree to this, and if this is what it means to be married to you, well…”
“Yes?” His voice was soft, and I think I heard the slightest bit of apprehension on the edges of his question.
“Well…I don’t know,” I said, more subdued. What did I mean? If being married to him meant I would get spanked, did that mean I didn’t want to be married to him? I shuddered at the thought. Ethan was my husband, I loved him, but I was so confused about everything.
“I understand,” he said, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes. “This is confusing. I know this isn’t what you signed on for, Sara, but honestly, baby, I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“I didn’t know things were so bad,” I mumbled.
“They’re not, but they could get that way. You’ve been acting disrespectful over the last six weeks or so, and I’ve been trying to ignore it. I kept thinking that if I was sweeter to you, more patient that you’d snap out
of these bratty, self-indulgent moods. But if anything, the nicer I am to you the more childish you seem to get.”
“I resent that!” I said hotly. “If you knew how to help me—”
“I don’t know how to help you, Sara. That’s the point. I’m getting frustrated, too. I care so much about you, baby, and I want to protect you. I think the main one you need to be protected from is yourself.”
The main one I needed to be protected from was his mean left swing, I thought bitterly.
“….and I didn’t know what to do,” Ethan was saying, “which is why I went to talk to your dad. And he was the one who gave me the idea. Well, he suggested really…”
Chapter 4
“Wait a minute!” I screeched. “What?”
“Sara, don’t raise your voice to me,” Ethan commanded.
Normally it gave me pause whenever he used his no-nonsense tone, but I was too pissed at the moment to heed the warning. I felt my blood heating, quickly approaching a rapid boil. “You did what? I can’t believe you, Ethan! You create all these imaginary problems, you don’t bother actually telling me about any of them, and then you go complaining to my father?” I was pretty sure that steam was literally rising from my ears. They were at least tinged pink, the pair of them.
“I didn’t know what else to do, Sara! I’ve haven’t been married before either, you know, and your dad knows you better than anyone. I thought he—”
“You know who knows me better than anyone?” I challenged. “Me. You should have come to me. You should have talked to me. Unless you want to be married to my father!”
His eyes narrowed, and even though I normally hated to see those beautiful blue eyes cloud with anger, at that moment I just didn’t care. “You wouldn’t talk to me about it. You kept saying that nothing was wrong, insisting that everything was fine. I am not an idiot, Sara.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” I huffed, and his eyes widened. As I watched, his face began to lose color.