Unexpected Consequences

by Cara Bristol

  “What shoes were you wearing?”

  She shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Just a pair of heels.” As long as she stayed close to the line of truth, it wasn’t a fib. Not a big one, anyway.

  “Old ones or new ones?”

  “New…ish.” She lifted a shoulder.

  “Which ones?” Jared crossed his arms over his chest. She sneaked a glance at his face and read the disbelief in his laserlike gaze.

  Damnit, he knew. But how could he know? The quickening in her stomach turned to tumbling, and she decided she’d better come clean. She stifled a sigh. She hoped this wouldn’t turn into an argument. It would make for an awkward, tense evening. “I decided to go ahead and buy the shoes.”

  “Which shoes are those?” he asked with infuriating persistence.

  “The red ones,” she muttered.

  “The ones I specifically told you not to buy?”

  Annoyance flared. Jared was her husband, the head of their small family, but he wasn’t her boss. “Yes, Lord and Master, the ones you told me not to buy,” she snapped. She threw her hands into the air. “Are you happy now?” She planted her fists on her hips.

  “Is that how you show respect? With sarcasm?” A dangerous edge entered his voice.

  “I’m sorry.” She huffed the insincere apology.

  “You’re sorry you got caught, maybe, but I don’t believe you’re sorry you defied my wishes.”

  “It was only a pair of shoes.” She refused to feel guilty. They could afford them, and what right did he have to dictate whether she could buy a pair of shoes, anyway? “I’m a grown woman. If I want to buy a pair of shoes, I shouldn’t have to ask permission.” She tightened the belt of her robe.

  Jared shook his head. “No, generally you don’t have to ask permission to buy something you need or want. But I had a reason for telling you no, and since I did, you should have obeyed my request.”

  “So what was your reason?” Her gaze collided with his.

  “That’s immaterial now.” He glanced at her feet. “Put on the shoes you bought, and meet me in my study. Right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re not done.” He turned to leave.

  She shivered in apprehension. His steely-eyed expression, the stern slash of his mouth made her nervous. This wasn’t tender, indulgent Jared. This was lay-down-the-law Jared. “I have to finish getting dressed first.” She stalled.

  “No. Come as you are.” Jared stopped in the doorway. “Tomorrow you’re going to return those shoes to the store for a refund.”

  “But they won’t take them back,” she sputtered. “They’ve been worn. The soles are scuffed.”

  “Then you’ll donate them to charity.” He stalked out of the bathroom.

  Melania retrieved her shoes and collapsed onto the vanity bench. Her heart was thumping, and her stomach was upset. She and Jared had just gone head-to-head in the first fight of their new marriage. Unfortunately it wasn’t over. She shouldn’t have sneaked behind his back, but he shouldn’t have refused her. He acted like he had been testing her.

  He hadn’t shouted, but he was angry. Perversely, his self-control seemed more ominous than if he had ranted and raved. She felt as if she’d entered the eye of a hurricane. Things appeared calm, but the air crackled with a dangerous energy. She did not want to meet Jared in his office, but she didn’t dare disobey. You could push a man only so far.

  Melania wedged her feet into her shoes and gasped when she took a step. The shoes seared her feet like sandpaper rubbing a raw wound. She removed the shoes. Carrying them, she hurried to meet Jared.

  His study door was closed. She knocked twice quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear and she could tiptoe away while still fulfilling the letter of Jared’s law. She’d reported as ordered. It wasn’t her fault if he didn’t hear.

  “Come.” His voice, though muffled, was too audible to ignore.

  Damn. Melania took a deep breath, turned the handle, and pushed open the heavy paneled door to find her husband bent over his leather-and-wood valet thingy. They had received the unusual stand as a wedding gift from the Rod and Cane Society, but she didn’t know what the piece was. She assumed it was a guy thing. A man toy. The valet’s wide, padded leather seat rested atop four mahogany legs, reminding her of a gymnastics pommel horse. Its height could be adjusted by removing wooden pegs in the legs, as Jared was doing now.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Put your shoes on, please.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why, but she figured her question would annoy him further, so she eased her feet into the shoes.

  Jared lowered the leather seat of the valet, then flipped a release, allowing a squared metal ring to pop out of a hidden panel at the base of each leg. She’d never noticed that before.

  Melania’s breath caught in her throat as Jared strode from the horse to his large desk, unlocked a drawer, and removed a paddle and four fleece-padded leather bands with buckles. Her heart fluttered as if a hummingbird were caught in her chest cavity. Surely he wasn’t going to—

  Her memory flashed to her childhood when she had been particularly naughty and her mother had told her to wait in her room for her father, the one who meted out discipline. She’d hidden under the bed. Her father had found her and administered extra swats to her behind for attempting to avoid punishment. The anxiety that skittered through her now was similar to that time. Jared couldn’t seriously be intending to spank her! Sure, they had discussed his right to correct her behavior through corporal discipline—but only if needed and as a last resort. All she’d done was buy a pair of shoes. Surely that didn’t warrant a spanking!

  She swallowed hard and wet her lips. Steeling her courage, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  His eyes met her gaze. “I’m preparing to spank you.”

  Jared could see Melania’s knees begin to shake, but she stood her ground as he stalked toward her. He admired her pluckiness and audacity even though her disobedience disappointed him. If he failed to act or let her misbehavior pass with a mere slap on the wrist, it would set a bad precedent. He had to nip her dishonesty in the bud to ensure she understood the seriousness of her actions.

  He cupped her silky-soft cheek. Her eyes were wide with apprehension, and his chest tightened with regret. He wished he didn’t have to spank her. “I want you to understand this isn’t about shoes.”

  She glanced at her feet. “Then why did you have me put them on?”

  “The shoes represent the violation of trust and honesty. I want you to focus on why you thought a pair of shoes was more important than listening to me.

  “When you obey my requests—no matter how trivial they may appear to be—you demonstrate your trust in me; you acknowledge your faith that I have your best interests at heart. Do you think I would ask you to do something I didn’t think was right?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Not only did you defy me, but you lied about it and attempted to hide it. You have to learn your behavior will have consequences.”

  “But a spanking?” She looked shocked, as if this were the first time she’d heard of the possibility of a physical reprimand.

  Jared dropped his hand. “We’ve talked about this, haven’t we? You knew it was possible I would enforce discipline by spanking you.”

  “But I didn’t think you’d do it!” Her eyes widened with disbelief. Her shock surprised Jared. He’d discussed obedience and discipline with her on several occasions. Her smiles and whispers of acquiescence indicated she was on board. So what was her resistance?

  “Are you saying you won’t honor the commitment you made? You’re no longer willing to place yourself in my hands?” His words came out clipped.

  She stared at her feet and bit her lip.

  “Melania?” Jared lifted her chin with the tip of his finger.

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged.

  “You need to know.” Jared inserted steel into hi
s tone. “Because it’s all or nothing. You accept our marriage as it is, or you reject it in total. And once the spanking starts, no pleas or promises or tears will dissuade me until I’ve decided you’ve learned your lesson. It will hurt, Melania. Make no mistake. Your ass is going to be red.” His chest ached. He didn’t want to punish her, to cause her pain, but she had left him no choice.

  “Jared, please.” Her beseeching, fearful eyes shimmered with unshed tears. A muscle twitched in Jared’s cheek. He hated to scare her, but spanking wasn’t supposed to be pleasant. If it was, it wouldn’t be effective in shaping behavior. As a submissive wife, she should accept it as a learning experience and mature from it.

  “Do you remember our wedding night, Melania?” Jared took her hands in his. Her skin felt cold, and he closed his hands around hers to warm them. “You were a virgin. You were nervous, but you trusted me to introduce you to sexual pleasure. Trust me to know when you need discipline and to provide it.”

  She bowed her head. He saw her take a deep breath and exhale. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “Okay.”

  Jared’s heart swelled with relief and love. Melania did trust him. She was nervous, but she trusted him. The spanking would wipe the slate clean, and they could start anew, enjoy an even more positive and loving marriage. Once they got over this first hurdle, acceptance and growth would come.

  “Take off your robe.” His voice sounded thick to his own ears.

  Her hands fumbled as she untied the belt. She let the silk wrap fall to the floor. Despite his displeasure with her behavior, heat rushed through him as it always did at the sight of his wife’s body. Plump breasts filled her strapless red lace bra; her pert nipples, almost popping over the top, were visible through the sheer fabric. Smooth skin curved inward to her waist before swelling at her hips. A ridiculous scrap of triangle lace made little pretense of covering her bare mound.

  In those shoes, her legs seemed to go on forever. God, he wished she’d obeyed him about the shoes. He could have been fucking her while she wore them right now instead of about to spank her.

  He grasped her hand and led her to the spanking bench. Patented by a Rod and Cane Society member decades ago, the bench allowed for optimum positioning of the buttocks.

  “Bend over the bench. Let your arms dangle over the sides.”

  “Jared…do you have to—” Her eyes glistened. Her lower lip wobbled. She looked so adorably penitent, Jared understood why her father had been lenient with the discipline.

  “Do as I say,” he said gently.

  She turned and leaned over the bench. Her ridiculous panties were nothing more than a string tucked between two of the most perfect ass cheeks God had ever created. A tiny red satin Daisy Duck bow—a mate to the ones on her shoes—rested at the base of her spine. Her hair tumbled over one shoulder in an ebony fall. Lust as red as her bow rocketed through him.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered. God help him, he wanted to see her.

  She widened her stance slightly.

  “More.”

  She parted her legs, and he secured her ankle restraints to the rings on the bench before rounding it and tethering her wrists to the hoops on the front. The restraints provided for her safety, to prevent her from jerking and to ensure the paddle landed where intended.

  He stroked her gently from shoulder to ass as he circled the spanking bench. He cupped and caressed her ass cheeks. Nearly naked as she was and exposed to the air, her skin felt cool, but the spanking would warm her flesh soon enough.

  The string of red floss offered no impediment, but Jared desired her totally bare bottomed. He grabbed a letter opener from his desk, sliced through the thong, and stripped it from her body, ripping away any pretense of who was in control.

  Melania was.

  Her willingness to submit and nothing else granted Jared his rights as head of household. Although Jared demanded all-or-nothing capitulation, Melania could refuse to submit to a spanking at any time. The contract of consent merely ensured both husband and wife entered the marriage fully cognizant of the finer points of their agreement and offered legal protection in the event their arrangement was misunderstood by an outsider.

  Signing the document only pledged commitment. This moment transmuted promise to reality and demonstrated that Melania was willing to go the distance. With her submission, she’d granted him his rights as her husband, and he was humbled. Already the spanking was having its intended effect of fostering trust and respect—and he hadn’t even paddled her yet.

  This was a special time in their marriage, even more momentous than their wedding ceremony. The first spanking represented a huge milestone in a marriage.

  Jared had spanked a couple of former lovers in an attempt to guide their behavior, but he’d known at the time the relationships lacked staying power. That was proved when shortly after the spankings, both relationships had ended. Jared concluded that neither woman was fully on board with the practice.

  That was why he’d gone to great lengths to discuss it with Melania and partly why he’d had the contract of consent drafted. He needed to be 100 percent sure his wife was committed to him and the lifestyle that would form the cornerstone of their marriage.

  Initially Melania’s relative youth and inexperience had concerned Jared: if older, wiser women were unable to embrace domestic discipline, how would Melania be able to? But as he fell more and more in love with her, his reservations ceased to matter. Their marriage would work because it had to. He couldn’t imagine spending his life with anyone but Melania. The fact that her parents were devoted members of Rod and Cane reassured him that she held a basic understanding of their roles as husband and wife. He could teach her the rest. That was what discipline meant, after all—to teach.

  He’d learned something about himself too. Melania’s innocence made him realize he was more old-fashioned than he’d thought. He’d always assumed his wife would be as sexually experienced as he was and close to his own age, but it thrilled him in a very primitive, selfish way to know that no man had had Melania before him. It pleased him, too, that she’d never been physically reprimanded by a lover. Her pussy and her ass were his.

  Jared had thought he would be prepared for this moment. But he hadn’t expected the feelings of love—and lust—the act of spanking would engender. The invitation of her submissive position, of her exposed sex, tempted him to sink to his knees and worship at the altar of perfection revealed to him. He wanted to lick her pussy, delve into her wet depths, make her moan in pleasure.

  Not cry out in pain. But she had to trust his instruction. If he permitted this matter to slide, the long-term consequences of her disobedience and lack of trust would undermine their marriage. When he put his foot down, it was for her welfare and the good of their union. If she flouted his authority, they would not move in sync and would not be able to achieve the deep intimacy they both desired.

  Jared had considered going easy on her by turning her over his knee and swatting her with the palm of his hand, but decided her first spanking needed to be memorable. He wouldn’t tolerate dishonesty.

  He picked up the paddle crafted of a half-inch plank of mahogany, sanded to the smoothness of silk. The implement measured about four inches wide by about a foot long. To test his aim and prepare her bottom, he cracked the paddle lightly against her right cheek. She jerked and emitted a small yelp. He repeated the action on her left cheek.

  He put a little more force into the next two blows, and her ass blushed pink. She gave a small grunt with each strike, more of surprise than real pain, he suspected. He caressed the area with his palm before stinging it again and watching the hue deepen.

  She colored so quickly, Jared could tell she would be very red before her punishment was over.

  “It’s time, Melania.” He lifted his arm.

  The sexual intimacy Melania enjoyed as a married woman hadn’t prepared her for the vulnerability she felt now. All she wore was her strapless bra, and she felt as if all her shields an
d pretenses had been stripped away with her clothing. She doubted she would have put herself in such a scary position if not for the requirement that she submit to her husband’s discipline. She was at his mercy and had no choice but to trust his judgment.

  She expected Jared to immediately wail into her with the nasty paddle he’d removed from his desk, but his touch had been almost reverent as he stroked her, his love evident. If she hadn’t been restrained, she would have lifted her hips, invited his fingers to delve into her cleft, enticed him to fill her with the erection she’d seen tenting his pants when he tied her wrists. If she could distract him sexually, maybe he wouldn’t spank her.

  But she couldn’t move. She tested the restraints, pulling at the fleece-lined straps. She could move her arms and legs a few inches, but that was it. She was held fast. As her nervousness subsided, she discovered being restrained wasn’t that bad. It seemed like a kinky sex game, a little naughty, erotic. A trifle scary, but stirring. Maybe they should try this sometime when he wasn’t intending to punish her.

  He’d spanked her the other night, and that hadn’t been bad at all. She’d enjoyed it. Of course, he hadn’t been angry with her then, and he’d used his hand and not a paddle, so she figured this spanking would hurt a little more, but she vowed not to cry. She would take her punishment like a woman.

  To her surprise and relief, the first couple of swats hardly hurt. She jumped out of surprise, not real pain.

  The next few stung a little more, but it was nothing like she had feared. Melania exhaled and relaxed against the padded leather valet. She intended to be a dutiful wife, but if from time to time she needed to defy Jared to get what she wanted, she could handle the consequences. If she’d known her punishment was going to be this easy, she would have brought the shoes home openly and said, “I want them, so spank me.”

  They were such beautiful shoes, they made the pain of wearing them worthwhile. Even as she just stood, resting on the valet, they pinched her feet. But damn, they looked good.