Groomed

by Bethany Leigh

  Ben and Amanda Harrison had gone to prison for fourteen years in 2000. They pleaded guilty and so Charlotte hadn't had to appear in court. Marie Beckham sold her story to the UK's tabloid Sun newspaper through an agent and arranged for Charlotte to write the article. According to more recent British tabloid reports, Marie was now in a consensual BDSM relationship with her boyfriend. Good for her, Charlotte thought. Marie knew exactly what she wanted now and went for it. Her experience with the Harrisons had eventually helped her accept her sexuality rather than hide it.

  "What about you?" she asked Connor. "Are you and Lisa an item?"

  He laughed. "No, we're just friends. She's seeing somebody else actually. As for me, well, two failed marriages is enough." He signalled and moved back into the left lane. "Did you have anything planned for dinner tonight?"

  Was he asking her out for a meal? Or would he cook for them? Charlotte had missed his cooking. Her culinary skills hadn't progressed much farther than microwaving ready meals.

  "Unless you count a couple of slices of toast and a glass of wine, no," she said.

  "Hmm." He turned off the freeway. "I don't count that at all. So would you like to have dinner with me? I did a batch of cooking over the weekend so I only have to heat something up."

  "That'd be great, thanks. If you don't mind," she said.

  "If I minded, I wouldn't have asked you."

  "I guess not."

  She was curious to see how the house had changed. Not very much, she discovered, when she stepped inside. The kitchen looked just the same. The lounge room had different furniture, because she'd taken their sofa and armchairs, but the layout was identical. The passageway no longer had photos of her family down one side, but his family photos were still perched on the other.

  "Wine?" he asked her.

  "Yes. Please."

  It was weird being back. She sat at the kitchen table while Connor took a bottle from the fridge and uncorked it. This was where he'd given her that final, furious spanking that had fuelled her fantasies since.

  "How's your mum?" he asked, handing her a glass of red wine.

  "Good. She moved out of the house. She's in a smaller place now, not far from where Tracy and Rob live."

  "Great."

  "Yeah, they keep an eye on her." Charlotte sipped her wine. "And she has her friends. She's out all the time."

  "That's good. Chicken and pasta okay?" When she nodded, he put the meal in the convection oven and set the timer. "I'm glad I ran into you," he said. "I've been meaning to get in touch with you, actually."

  He wants a divorce.

  The thought of making their separation official struck Charlotte like a blow. Although they'd had nothing to do with each other, neither of them had taken steps towards getting divorced. She'd assumed it would happen when one of them was in another, serious relationship. Or when she returned to Wales. But now... She couldn't work out how she felt about her marriage being officially over.

  Connor grabbed cutlery and mats from the drawers, started setting the table. "I upgraded the computer not so long back. I found a copy of your emails to Ben."

  Charlotte shifted in her seat. She didn't want to discuss all that again now, not two years down the track. It had all been bad enough at the time.

  "I sold the computer, and wanted to make sure everything got properly deleted from it," Connor said. "So I checked through your old files as well. You'd password protected some of them, but they were easy to get into. I read what you wrote to him."

  Charlotte masked her discomfort with a sip of wine. "It was a long time ago," she said. "I can't do anything about it now. If I could go back in time, I'd never have written to him. Never have joined that damn forum."

  When the food was ready, she'd eat quickly, walk home. She didn't want to discuss those emails. It was bad enough she'd fallen in Ben's trap, she didn't want to have to talk about it now.

  Connor emptied a packet of cashew nuts into a bowl and placed them on the table. "The thing is, when I read those emails I realised for the first time how much spanking meant to you and that I let you down."

  Charlotte's glass of wine suspended mid-air as she stared at him, surprised.

  "You'd never have contacted that guy if I hadn't refused to do it anymore, would you?" he asked.

  Charlotte grabbed a couple of cashews. "No," she agreed. "I wouldn't have but I don't blame you for not wanting to do it. It wasn't your thing, and my behaviour was terrible."

  "You're not wrong there." Connor took a slug of wine. "That's something I never understood. I thought the idea of the spankings was that your behaviour was supposed to improve."

  "I know," said Charlotte. "I don't understand that part of it either. Sorry." She reached for more nuts. "Look, do you mind if we talk about something else? It's…" She searched for the word. 'Inappropriate' given they were no longer a couple? "A long time ago," she settled for.

  "Embarrassing, yes I know. But bear with me. The thing is, when I read your emails I started to see that you actually need those spankings to be happy. Reading them made me wish I could go back in time, give you what you needed."

  Tears pricked Charlotte's eyes for the way things might have been. If she'd communicated better. If she'd behaved better. "You hated it, though," she pointed out.

  "I hated the way it made your behaviour worse. But now I see that acting out was just your clumsy way of asking me to spank you. And I really did hate that I'd spanked you in temper a couple of times. I felt really bad about that. I never wanted to hurt you."

  The convection oven beeped. Charlotte nibbled nuts in silence while Connor transferred the steaming chicken pasta into a bowl. Where was this conversation going? Was he just apologising for not having understood her needs? Or was there something more?

  "Smells delicious," Charlotte said. She took a forkful. "Tastes delicious too."

  "Glad you like it." Connor sat opposite her. "Anyway, getting back to what we were talking about. I started to think that for you spanking and discipline were two different things. Let's take your temper. You wanted to control it. I wanted you to control it. But spanking you for it didn't work because there were times you just needed to be spanked. And having a temper tantrum or being rude to me got you what you needed, because that was what we'd agreed. Am I right?"

  God, this was all so embarrassing. "You are right," Charlotte admitted. "But—"

  Connor held up a hand. "Hear me out. Let's say our agreement had been that every time you were rude to me or had a temper tantrum, I disabled the internet so you couldn't use it. Gave you no internet access for a week. How would that have worked?"

  Like I was a naughty child being grounded. Charlotte blushed and grinned ruefully. "I guess it would have worked."

  "You wouldn't have had a tantrum the minute you got your internet access back?"

  "No. Well, I'd have tried really hard not to, anyway."

  Connor took a forkful of pasta, chewed and swallowed.

  "That would have worked because bad behaviour resulted in something you didn't want," he said. "So spanking fills a different need in your life. We have to work out what that need is. Whether it's purely erotic, something that turns you on in bed. Whether it's something you'd like to role play, like a naughty schoolgirl and stern principal scenario. Or whether it's something you just need regularly to be happy. In which case, we'd need to have a proper signal so that the message was loud and clear."

  He looked directly at her. Charlotte blushed again and wriggled.

  "What do you mean by 'we'?" she asked him.

  Connor reached out and took her hand. "I'm asking you to try again, Charlotte. Move back in with me. Or perhaps we should have a few dates first, see if we want to do that. That's up to you. But I love you, I've missed you, and whatever it takes to make you happy, I'm willing to do it. I just want to understand when you need a spanking, so things don't escalate and I end up spanking you too hard in anger. Or I don't even realise you want me spank you. Perhaps you need a n
ightly bedtime spanking, something like that."

  "Have you been reading up on spanking on the internet?" Charlotte asked him. "Because you didn't read all this in my emails to Ben."

  He grinned. "I said I'd been meaning to contact you, didn't I?"

  Charlotte rose and put her arms around him. "I love you," she said. "I didn't realise how much until you dumped me."

  He pushed his seat away from the table, pulled her onto his lap. "Do I take that as a yes, then?" he asked. "We try again?"

  "Yes," she said, and they kissed until their meals went cold.

  Epilogue

  September, 2014

  Charlotte startled as she noticed the time on her laptop clock. Shit! She'd been so absorbed in writing her latest 'Colour Me Red' novel that she hadn't realised it was getting late. Nearly half-past ten, she was still in her dressing-gown, and she had a half-hour drive to the café where she was meeting her old friends from Australian Woman's Realm at noon. "Fuck," she muttered, "fuck, fuck, fuck."

  Hurriedly, she backed up Madder Carmine on her USB stick. This was the third in the 'Colour Me Red' spanking romance series she'd started writing a few months ago when she and Connor had had their 'tree change', moving from their outer Melbourne suburb to a country township. It took about half an hour for Connor to drive to the café Monday to Friday. Charlotte had been made redundant when the arts magazine she'd edited for nearly a decade after leaving Australian Woman's Realm had folded. Now she freelanced from home, writing features for whoever would commission her.

  And finally writing novels. Not the crime novels she'd once planned, but funny, romantic stories about a talented, but scatterbrained artist and her London gallery-owning boyfriend. The book titles were named after Derwent pencil colours, double meanings hinting at their spanking content: Flesh Pink, Poppy Red and now Madder Carmine. She wasn't raking in money like that bloody Fifty Shades author, but hell, she was having fun writing them.

  She put down her laptop and headed for the shower. When she opened the bedroom door the sound of gushing water greeted her from the en suite. "Oh, for fuck's sake," she said, annoyed. Connor was in the shower. He knew bloody well she had to leave the house soon. She could use the guest bathroom, but that would mean shifting her stuff down there. And anyway, she'd spent ages yesterday getting the guest room ready for Josh and his new girlfriend, who were arriving tomorrow for a three-day visit. She didn't want to mess the bathroom up.

  She felt like flinging open the door and yelling at Connor to come out. But she'd only got her phone back two days ago after the last temper tantrum, and didn't want it confiscated again, especially when she had to meet friends today. So she forced herself to be polite.

  Connor was under the shower, the bathroom steamy because he'd forgotten to switch on the fan. She switched it on now, said, "How long are you going to be?"

  "What?"

  "How long are you going to be?"

  "Nearly finished," he said.

  "You'd better be," she muttered and left the bathroom. In the walk-in wardrobe she chose her outfit for the day. Jeans, her new shirt, jacket, boots… She heard the shower go off. Good, he was out, he'd better not have used all the hot water.

  She laid her clothes on the bed and took off her dressing-gown. Connor came out of the bathroom, hair still wet, towel around his waist. "What was that I heard you say as you left the bathroom?" he asked her.

  God, he was annoying. He hadn't heard her initial query but he'd heard what she muttered under her breath. "What?"

  "When I said I was nearly finished, I heard you say something. What was it?" He pulled on jeans.

  Maybe he hadn't heard exactly. Anyway, she hadn't lost her temper, she was fine. She'd done nothing that meant losing her phone or the internet. "Oh, just 'good', something like that. I can't remember."

  "Liar. You said 'You'd better be'." He opened a drawer, pulled out a T-shirt.

  Charlotte sighed. "If you heard me, why ask the question?" She started to walk towards the en suite, but he grabbed her arm.

  "Bare your bottom and bend over the bed."

  "What?"

  "You know how this works. If you're getting grumpy it means you're ready to be spanked. Two hours ago you told me you'd be about half an hour finishing a chapter, then you were headed for the shower. I've been out in the garden so I thought you'd showered ages ago. There was no need for that comment or to lie about it, so you're getting spanked."

  Her pussy clenched. She was grumpy, she did need spanking. Writing spanking scenes in 'Colour Me Red' always got her stirred up. But she had to be out of here soon or she'd be late meeting her friends. There wasn't bloody time for this right now.

  "I'm sorry about what I said," she said. "And you're right. I do want to be spanked. But I'm running late. Can we do this tonight?"

  Connor's lips quirked. "Yeah, we can do this tonight. But we're also doing it now. So come on, bare your bottom and bend over the bed."

  In all the years they'd been practising domestic discipline, Charlotte had never liked submitting. She liked to be chased, caught, hauled over his knee. She hated the idea of voluntarily baring her bottom and bending over. It conflicted with her idea of herself as an independent woman.

  Connor knew she struggled with that too.

  She thought about running, making it a fun chase, but he second-guessed her. He stood in the doorway, barring her escape.

  He grinned. "The clock's ticking, Charlotte. You can bend over and accept punishment now and still be on time to meet your friends. Or you can continue to defy me, in which case I can stand here all day. Your choice."

  Charlotte scowled. "I hate you when you get like this."

  "You wouldn't have me any other way." He picked up his phone from the dressing table near the door, and started scrolling through it. "Like I said, it's up to you whether you go out today or not."

  She glanced at the clock on the bedside table.

  Fuck him. Fuck him.

  Oh, just bloody get on with it, Charlotte.

  Charlotte yanked down her pyjama bottoms and bent over the bed. She felt so foolish when she did this, so damn humiliated and vulnerable. Being chased, caught and spanked elated her, but if she had to submit, present her bottom to him for punishment, she was mortified. It was weird.

  No, not weird. It was because he was controlling the situation, not her. The discipline came not so much from the spanking, but from the act of submission.

  She heard him put down the phone. Heard him pick up her hairbrush.

  Charlotte tensed and waited for it to splat across her bottom.

  God, her backside was tender. Sitting for so long on the hard wooden chair at the café had been excruciating. Connor had really lit into her with the hairbrush. She could still feel it now, hours later. She felt sexy, though, contented. Connor wouldn't forget he was spanking her again at bedtime, like he'd promised. It had been a rocky road, their domestic discipline. Sometimes it had caused friction, resentment. Sometimes it still did. But she reckoned they now had a handle on it.

  Connor was in the kitchen cooking up something that smelled delicious. She didn't feel like writing now, so she thought she'd go online for a while, check out a spanking blog she'd come across, that she was more than a bit suspicious of.

  Amy's World

  In which I blog about marriage, DD and all things spanking!

  About Me

  Hi! I'm Amy and I've been married to Brad for more years than either of us care to remember. But they've gone by so quickly it feels like yesterday since we tied the knot. We live in a beautiful house by the beach, we both have rather boring but very well paid government jobs, we like to travel, and we have a very old-fashioned marriage, in which he doesn't hesitate to take me over his knee if he thinks I deserve it. ***cue: swoon!*** I'll be sharing my experiences in this blog, and hope it will encourage others to incorporate DD into their relationships. I know it's a cliché but DD really does strengthen a marriage, leads to greater intimacy, and the sex�
��OMG, ladies, the SEX! Through the roof, I tell you!

  Brad will post sometimes too, because too often information on DD on the internet doesn't include the man's perspective. We all know how DD makes the woman feel (sore, but oh so safe, protected and loved) but what does it do for the man? Brad will explain this, and hopefully persuade some of those reluctant spankers out there to pick up a hairbrush when their adored wife is out of line.

  Anyway, we welcome comments and can't wait to get to know you all better as we share our experiences. So don't be shy, if you've got a question, or comment, jump right on in.

  2 COMMENTS

  I just found your blog and have been reading some of your stories. I'm so envious! You're so lucky to have a husband who understands your needs and is happy to meet them, and that your marriage is strong as a result. My husband knows I'd like to be spanked to cure my overspending habit, but he's not willing to meet my needs in this area.

  Nadine

  Sorry to hear that, Nadine. It always saddens me when one partner won't even try DD. Submission to their discipline is a glorious gift a woman can give to a man. I know some women see disciplinarians to have their needs met, so that might be something to think about, if you're sure your husband won't spank you. I have some links somewhere to places where you can seek out disciplinarians online. Whereabouts are you? Let me know if you're interested. Lots of love, Amy xxx

  Yeah, Charlotte was definitely suspicious. And even if she was wrong, well it was always worth warning people. There were good people in the online spanking community, but it only took one bad apple for someone's life to be ruined, the way hers could so easily have been. So she tapped in a comment.

  Probably a good time for this cautionary tale to make a reappearance: my-life-as-a-kinky-sex-slave- thesun-2000-02-27

  The Harrisons are out of prison now. Just sayin'!

  Chef's Wife

  The End