by Laetitia
"Don't mind if I cut in do you, sir?" Myrick asked. The question was obviously rhetorical, as Myrick didn't wait for an answer, but grasped his wife and spun her rather forcefully out of the young man's arms. It took a moment for the young man to realize that he was standing in the middle of the dance floor, sans partner. He felt a blush of humiliation creep up to his cheeks and stormed off the floor and out the door.
Myrick kept spinning his stunned wife in circles. Her deep blue eyes widened in startled alarm, then they narrowed into a glare. Jesse always went on the offensive whenever she was caught doing the indefensible.
"What are you doing here?" Jesse asked caustically, raising her chin with defiant bravado.
"Dancing with my wife. I thought that was rather obvious."
"I mean," she began again in that patronizing tone he always found insulting,
"why've you come? I know you hate this sort of thing, so why are you here?"
"I've come to protect what's left of my wife's honor."
Two spots of brilliant red flushed up Jesseca's cheeks. Myrick knew that was a precursor to his wife experiencing a monumental loss of temper. He swung her around and danced her out the open doors leading to the veranda. Once outside, he took a firm grip on her upper arm and marched her out the door and into the vast darkness of the surrounding gardens.
"How dare you manhandle me like this?" she fairly shrieked at him. He continued to drag her farther from the house.
"Keep your voice down," he ordered. "Haven't you caused enough scandal for one evening?" Myrick peered into the darkness and spied a stone bench nestled at the far corner of the garden and half hidden by some bushes. He guided his lady none-too-gently over to the bench.
Jesseca wrenched her arm from his grip. She stomped her foot in frustration.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Myrick gently rested his hands on her shoulders and let them slip down her arms as lightly as a caress until he'd captured both his wife's hands in his. "I couldn't help noticing, that as you were dancing with your young man, he was paying an inordinate amount of attention to your lovely little bottom. I had no idea that you felt a lack of attention to that part of your anatomy. You should have said something. A husband should be told these things, don't you agree?"
"Let go!" Jesseca tried to break his grip on her hands, but he only tightened his hold. "You're hurting me! Stop behaving like a brute!"
"A brute? My dear, I assure you that my only intention this evening is fulfill your every need...even if you're not aware what you need."
"Stop blathering in riddles and let go of me! I mean it! I'll scream!"
"If you need to, my dear...but I should warn you that if we are discovered here because of your screams, you will be most heartily embarrassed." Myrick sat on the bench and threw her across his knee. "Now let's see to that other little need you have." He swatted her upturned bottom heartily several times.
"Owww! Let me go you...you wife beater!"
Smack, he brought his hand down once more. "Do you really think this might be considered a beating?" Smack, Smack. "Personally, I think this is much too tame to qualify for that dramatic term." Smack, Smack, Smack!
Jesseca tried to wiggle off his lap, but the blows continued to rain down on her. She couldn't get free and the pain was becoming excruciating, even cushioned as it was by her dress and under drawers. Through the red haze of pain, she searched frantically for a way to escape this onslaught. Tears. Chris hated when she cried. And it wouldn't even take much effort. Her bottom felt on fire, and she was shocked to her very core by her husband's uncharacteristic brutality. She admitted to herself that she was more than a little frightened.
"Please, Oh Please, Chris. No More!" she began to sob. Tears, real ones, flooded her eyes. The only response she got from her husband was four more swats, each harder than the first. "Owww! Ouch! Oh Please! I'm Sooo Sorry!"
Suddenly he stopped. He lifted her off his lap and stood her up between his muscled thighs. He reached into his jacket pocket and handed her his handkerchief. She sniffled and dabbed at her tears, but he remained stonily silent. Finding the silence almost as hard to bear as the spanking, Jesseca lifted her eyes to look at her husband. His face didn't reassure her. It was set in grim lines without a hint that he regretted what had just transpired. His only reaction was to reach around and cup the globes of her bottom, but it felt impersonal. Rather like he was testing to see how much warmth he had generated. She dropped her chin to her chest, mortified.
He raised her chin with his hand and forced her to look at him once more. He began talking to her softly, without apparent anger...which only made it more frightening to Jesseca as she tried to make some sense of what he was saying.
"Let me explain dear one, what is going to happen now. You are going to collect yourself and then you are going to find the hostess and thank her for a lovely time. We will leave here quietly...and it would be in your own best interest not to call any undue attention to our leave-taking. Do you understand?"
Jesseca sniffled and nodded.
"Good. When we leave here, I will take you home. Murphy is waiting outside with the carriage."
"Alright," Jesseca muttered softly.
"When we get home, we will retire to our rooms and continue this discussion in earnest."
It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. When they did she backed away from him holding her throbbing bottom and shaking her head.
" No...no! You can't mean to...to..."she couldn't bring herself to say it.
"To continue to spank you? Yes my dear, that is most assuredly what I intend.
What happened in this garden this evening was just the appetizer if you will. I have a four course meal waiting for you when we get home...metaphorically speaking that is."
"I...I....won't let you!" Jesse babbled.
"As I think I have demonstrated rather well, I don't require your permission."
He stood, spun her around toward the direction of the house, and gave her another hard swat. "Go!"
She looked over her shoulder once then began to walk toward the light from the veranda..
"Oh, and Jesseca," she turned back to him. "Do not make me come looking for you. I will meet you at the front door, but if you make me wait too long, I will come find you and I will turn you over my knee again...wherever I find you.
Thanks to your behavior, I have very little pride left. Do you understand me?"
Jesseca nodded and a sob escaped into the dark night air as she turned and almost ran back into the ballroom.
Myrick watched her rush into the house, then he began to saunter slowly around the side of the house to the front. Well, he thought. I think I have her undivided attention now. He smiled, feeling better than he had in years.
He was not even surprised to see his wife waiting for him on the front steps as he rounded the corner. She must have taken his threat seriously...as she bloody well should!, he thought as he reminded himself that she had three years of bad behavior to pay for this night, and he was going to make sure she learned her lessons well.
After retrieving his hat and coat, he walked her down the steps with his hand beneath her elbow, looking for all the world like a doting husband. He opened the carriage door, and placed her inside.
"We'll be going straight home, Murphy"
"As you say, sir" Murphy answered.
He entered the dark confines of the carriage and sat opposite his wife. Jesse pulled her skirts out of the way as if he might sully them if he touched them.
He grinned. Well, at least I haven't broken her spirit, he thought. Her temper seems to have come back. He folded his arms across his chest, and settled back into the seat.
Jesseca's mind was whirling. What could she do? She thought of bolting out of the carriage when they got home and locking him out of the house, but he had a key...and the butler, Sims would never side with her against her husband. If she could get a good start, maybe she could lock herself in her
room. She couldn't...she WOULDN'T submit to another spanking! Her bottom tingled at the mere thought of it. Before she could come up with a plan, they were home.
Chris got out first, then reached in and grabbed her wrist, yanking her unceremoniously from the carriage. She pulled hard to try to free herself, but couldn't break his grip. It was if he had anticipated her plan.
"We're home for the evening, Murphy," Myrick said over his shoulder.
Seizing on the distraction, Jesseca tried to land a rounder to the side of his face, but he caught her other hand in his iron grasp. "Not very wise of you, my dear. You don't really want to start something here on a public street do you?"
He arched an inquisitive brow as if it were a serious question. He let go of one of her hands and swatted her behind soundly as he urged her up their front steps. Jesseca couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Murphy try to choke down a laugh.
Once inside, she was pushed and prodded up the stairs. Chris was never more that two feet behind her. She could practically feel the heat of him behind her as she climbed to the second floor.
"Would you please back away? I am going as fast as I can!" Her voice rose, and she swished her hand behind her as if trying to rid herself of a pesky fly.
SMACK! Myrick landed another solid swat to her already tender bottom. The impact was so great, that she stumbled forward on the steps.
"I'll have none of your lip, young lady! Get up those stairs and be quick about it!"
Young lady!? Oh dear heaven , she thought, he wasn't even attempting to sound polite as he had at the VanKirk's. Young lady!? It sent shivers up her spine and her achy bottom began to tingle again.
They finally reached the door to her rooms. Chris reached around her, opened the door and shoved her inside. He took a moment to lock the door and pocket the key.
"Young lady, if you know what is good for you, you will remove your dress and your under drawers, then join me in my rooms in the shortest amount of time possible. I will allow you to keep your stockings and your short chemise on, but I want your nether regions bare. Do you understand?"
"You can't be serious! You want me prancing around your rooms, naked as a cheap whore..." She swallowed the rest of what she had to say when she looked at her husband's face. He most decidedly was serious.
"The shortest amount of time possible, Jesseca. I mean it!" Myrick strode to the connecting door. "And leave this door open." He disappeared into his rooms.
Jesseca was frantic. She looked longingly at the locked door. No hope there.
Maybe she could hide under the bed. No. Her husband looked determined...and a little angry. Perhaps she could convince him to make love to her instead. There was at least a little hope of that. She shimmied out of her dress and drawers then sat down in front of the dressing table. She removed the pins from her hair and let the heavy curls fall to her shoulders. She began to run a brush through her hair when she heard her husband shout from next door.
"Jesseca! Get in here now!"
Her hand shook as she placed the brush back on the polished surface of her dressing table. She took a steadying breath and crossed to the open doorway.
She stopped and draped herself into what she hoped was a seductive pose in the doorframe. She cocked one hip out and leaned against the opening. "I'm here," she said in her most seductive voice.
"So I see," Chris' voice came from a shadowed corner of the room. Jesseca could barely make out the dim outline of him sitting in the darkness. "Come here!"
Jesseca tried to move slowly toward the shadow. Finally, she reached him and throwing her pride in the dust, she straddled his lap sitting facing him and entwining her arms around his neck.
"Christopher, I really am so terribly sorry," she began, "and my bottom is so very sore. Couldn't I make amends in some other way...?"
"Amends for what?" Chris' voice sounded so cold and unfeeling. Jesseca tried to see his face, but couldn't make it out clearly.
"Uh, what?"
"I asked if you even know what you need to make amends for. Do you?"
"Uhm, no. Not really. I just know you're angry with me and I hate it when you're angry with me." She ran her finger up his neck and around his ear until he caught her hand and held it still.
"That's what I thought. Well my dear, your seduction was a waste of time. I still have that four course meal to give you. Now stand up!"
Jesseca jumped off his lap as if she'd been burned.
"Now lay yourself across my knee, just like we did in the garden."
"No! Chris please! Don't do this..."
"Lady, don't make this harder on yourself. Get over my knee."
Jesseca couldn't come up with another choice, so with a burning face, she lowered herself across his knee. She took some solace in the fact that it was so dark, he couldn't see much of her in this humbling position. Even that last shred of dignity was denied her as she felt him shift, then light a candle on the small table to his right. He rested his hand in the middle of her bared bottom.
"This is course number one. This is where I tell you exactly why you have ended up across my knee. I want you to listen very carefully." SMACK! He brought the flat of his hand down on her on her bare behind.
"Owww! Stop, Chris!"
"You are here because you are a flirt!" SMACK! "And not just an ordinary flirt," SMACK! "but a flirt and a sexual tease!" SMACK!
"Owww, Owww!" Jesseca arched her back, but Chris pushed her flat again.
"You use no discretion about when, where or with whom you flirt." SMACK!
"You use men to reassure yourself that you are desirable," SMACK! "and once that's accomplished, you have no more need for the fellow," SMACK!
SMACK! "then you turn cold on him." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"Oh, Chris! For the love of...! Owwwch!" She tried to wiggle away, but he kept an iron grip around her middle.
"Besides the fact that you are calculatingly cold hearted," SMACK! SMACK!
"you forget to remember that you are a very married lady!" SMACK!
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
That last flurry took Jesse's breath away. All she could seem to do was gasp and produce a low moaning groan.
"I have tolerated your behavior in the past, because I thought you would grow out of it." SMACK! SMACK! "But you have just become more blatant and manipulative." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! "You are through embarrassing us both. Do you understand?" SMACK! SMACK!
"Yes! Yes! I understand, please just stop!"
Chris rested his hot palm against her burning back end. "That was the first course. The second course is where you tell me if there is any reason I shouldn't blister your bottom until you can't sit down. ...Well?"
"Well...well...I" she couldn't stop sobbing. "At least I never truly had...an...an...affair! Lot's of women do you know!"
SMACK! "Not my woman!" Chris said. "That is the only reason that you are across my knee and not buried in the country. If you ever lose what little sense you have and contemplate a real affair, I will send you packing...and that is a promise!"
"No other husbands care if their wives flirt..."
"You push flirting past the point of simple amusement into an implied seduction...and I won't tolerate it any longer!"
With that, Christopher Myrick began to pepper his wife's red bottom with a flurry of spanks designed to raise welts and focus her attention for at least three days. Jesseca whined and cried. She wiggled and screamed. Nothing deterred her husband from grimly spanking his wife. She finally went limp across his knee and he knew she'd had enough.
"That, my love was the third course. The fourth course..."
"Please, please. I can't take any more! No more..." She stretched her hand back to cover herself, but he simply pinned it out of the way.
"The fourth course is where I tell you what your future will look like. You will never again attend any function to which men are invited, without me."
SMACK! "You may converse with other men, and you may even dance with other men
, but you will not do anything that will bring even the hint of shame on either of us." SMACK! SMACK! "If, at any time I do not think you are behaving with the correct decorum, I will remove you, forcibly if necessary, and we will have a discussion very similar to the one we have had tonight. Is that clear?" SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"Yes! Yes! It's Clear."
"Alright then, get up." Chris helped his wife to stand in front of him. Her face was red and tear-stained, and she was crying uncontrollably. "Just one more thing..."
Jesseca's eyes widened in genuine fear, but she managed to whisper, "What?"
"You must promise to do better, and you must thank me for loving you enough to give you this lesson."