Paul’s expression was obviously strained. “Nope.”
“I hope they have a bathroom here,” Michele muttered, gritting her teeth.
Paul motioned to his left and smiled. “I think there’s one over in that direction, Michele. I’ll get the car started, so meet me in the lot when you’re finished.”
* * *
“Why is Glen’s car here?” Michele asked as they pulled into their own driveway.
“I asked Glen and Denise to come over and help with the tree. After it’s in place, we can drink hot chocolate while we trim it. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
“Sure, sounds great!”
Glen and Denise waved, exiting their car as he parked directly behind them. “We did it! You’re looking at the proud owners of a live tree!” Paul exclaimed as he closed the car door.
“I see that,” Glen said, eyeing the tree. “Ah, how much does that thing weigh?”
Michele elbowed Denise. “I hope you brought a back brace for your boyfriend. It took ten minutes for three young strapping kids to get this wedged into the trunk.”
Paul crossed his arms. “Okay, we’re obviously in need for someone to take charge, so I volunteer.”
“Imagine that,” Michele deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.
“Denise and Glen will help me liberate the tree from the trunk. Michelie, please bring us the red wagon from the garage.”
Everyone’s eyes rolled as they saluted.
“How in the hell did they get this thing in here?” Denise groaned through clenched teeth, struggling with the others to free the tree from the trunk.
Sweat dripped down Paul’s red face as he grabbed the base of the tree, while Denise and Glen pulled from the other end. “I think it moved!” he yelled with encouragement.
Meanwhile Michele walked down the driveway with the wagon in tow. “I see you’ve made a lot of headway in the few minutes I was gone.”
Denise turned to her. “Hey, grab on, princess, we need more muscle.”
Michele wedged herself in between Denise and Glen, grabbed onto a branch, and pulled. “Almost there!” Paul screamed. “Just a little bit more.”
The four of them continued to push and pull, and then with a final burst of effort, the tree was finally freed from the car and fell with a thud onto the pavement.
“Now let’s get it into the wagon,” Paul ordered. “On the count of three, we’ll all lift. One… two… three!”
Grunts and groans were heard in unison.
“There, we did it! The hard part is over,” Paul said with pride, wiping his forehead. “I’ll pull this into the house. Glen, could you push it from behind?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
* * *
“Thank goodness we didn’t have to move this up a flight of stairs; it must weigh two hundred pounds.” Michele reached underneath the tree and poured water into the tub. “And you’re on your own when it comes time to dig a hole in the backyard.”
“Don’t worry, my personal elf assistant agreed to help.”
“Is he talking about me?” Glen looked around in bewilderment.
Paul chuckled. “Who’s going to make the hot chocolate while we bring down ornaments from the attic?”
“Denise and I will. I’ve washed my hands, so no more heavy lifting for me,” Michele stated, showing her clean hands.
“What an honor. I’ve been promoted to elf status,” Glen murmured.
“Head elf, if it makes a difference,” Paul announced, tilting his head to the side.
Several minutes later, Denise and Michele returned with four mugs of steaming hot chocolate. “Fresh out of the microwave,” Michele bragged, setting down the tray on the coffee table.
Paul’s head was deep into the box full of ornaments, as he systematically pulled each one out and laid it in the exact order to be placed on the tree.
Michele turned to Denise. “Watch closely. You’re not going to believe this.”
“Believe what?”
“If you video this on your smart phone, it has a good chance of going viral on YouTube.”
“The icicles have to go on first,” Paul instructed, obviously ignoring Michele’s comment. “Watch carefully and let me show you how.” Paul pulled out one icicle and gently hung it from a branch. “Everyone understand? It’s important that they’re placed strategically.”
Glen, Denise, and Michele all grabbed a few strands and began to throw them randomly onto the tree.
“No, no, no!” Paul screeched. “Let me show you again… they need to be placed individually.”
Michele looked at Denise. “Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
Carefully, she pulled out one strand and crossed her eyes while laying it gently on a branch.
“That’s the way, kitten,” Paul said, standing back from the tree to observe. “Did you guys see how Michele did that? Okay, I’m going to bring out the lights now. They go on next.”
“Is he like this every year?” Glen whispered to Michele.
“It’s a ritual. He told me that his dad was the same way. Everything is done in an exact manner. You can’t mess with the system,” Michele said, dramatically forming air quotes.
Paul pulled the string of lights out of the box. “Why are they all tangled up?” The wires dangled from his hands as his mouth contorted. “Michele, didn’t I ask you to wrap these up properly last year, so we wouldn’t have this problem? It looks like they were stuffed haphazardly in the box!”
“Oops. Sorry, daddy.” Casually sipping her hot chocolate, Michele looked in the other direction in an attempt to avoid eye contact with Paul.
“Okay, since you’re the one that created this mess, I think you should be the one to untangle it, young lady.”
“I’m sensing someone’s butt is going to be in trouble later,” Denise mumbled to Glen under her breath.
Michele gave her sister the finger as she edged her way across the room toward her husband.
Paul arched an eyebrow. “I’m going to be working late tonight, but consider the mental note made.”
Sitting down on the carpeted floor, she meticulously went about her task to unravel the wired mess. “When you’re done, Michelie, plug the lights in and test them to see if they all work,” Paul advised. “And while she’s busy with the lights, could you guys help unpack the ornaments?” he asked Denise and Glen. After a while, Paul returned to look over Michele’s shoulder and check on her progress. “How’s it going, sweetie?”
“I’m almost done.” She looked up and smiled. “Those two are tested and ready to go. I had to replace a couple of bulbs.”
“Good job. Now everyone observe, because there is a correct way to do this.” Paul grabbed a strand of lights and carefully began to place each one in a symmetric pattern on the tree. Several times he retreated from the tree to appraise his own progress. “Okay, Michele and Denise can start hanging ornaments on the bottom. Make sure they’re spaced out evenly, please.”
“Michele, don’t you find it interesting that he’s a psychiatrist? He’s so… obsessive,” Denise whispered with a hand cupped over her mouth.
“I’ve often thought the same thing. Wouldn’t that make a great title for a book? The Obsessive Psychiatrist.”
The two of them rolled on the floor in a fit of laughter.
“Duly noted for a conversation later,” Paul announced calmly, though his eyes narrowed.
“We’re just about finished,” Michele sang out as Denise and Glen helped her place a gold star on the top. “Maybe next year the three of us can just drink hot chocolate while you decorate the tree. It would be a lot less stressful.”
“Come on. Take a look at the beautiful result of all your efforts.” Paul motioned for everyone to back up as he plugged the male end of the cord into the wall socket, lighting up the tree. The four of them stood silent for a few moments before Paul turned off the table lamp to present the glowing colored lights. “It’s magnificent!” he proclaimed. “And I owe it all to my little helper
s.”
“We prefer to be called elves, thank you very much,” Glen added. “Speaking of which, it’s time for us to go home. Santa’s wee folk need to be at work very early tomorrow.” Denise and Glen grabbed their coats as Paul and Michele led them to the front door.
“Thanks so much, we couldn’t have done this without you.” They waved goodbye and quietly shut the door before returning to the living room. Standing in silence for a moment, Paul and Michele stood mesmerized in front of the tree. “What do you think, my little kitten?”
“It’s wonderful, daddy. But it will look even better with presents stacked underneath.”
Paul put his arm around her shoulders as they moved over to sit on the couch together. “That’s my girl—always focused on the important stuff!”
Michele giggled, rubbing her soft face up and down his dark-shadowed one. “You’re not really going to punish me for shooting Denise the bird, are you?”
“Let’s just say that Santa has been paying close attention to everything you’ve been doing lately. And there’s a rumor going around that he has a thundering gloved hand.” Paul’s expressive green eyes twinkled.
Chapter Nineteen
“Okay, I just assumed the whole bit about Santa watching me was a joke,” Michele said, removing a hot tray of sugar cookies out of the oven. “And where in the hell did you get that costume?”
“I can’t believe anyone would have the nerve to sass Santa on Christmas Eve,” Paul said, adjusting the white beard on his face, gazing down to admire the red rented suit.
“Okay, I’ll bite. Are you dressed for your patients’ kids, or did you find some extra work at the mall? If history has taught us anything, we know the shrink business always picks up this time of year.”
“Actually, I stopped by to see if the stories about Michele Anne Fazio being naughty are true. That would be you, right?” He stroked his long beard and took a step backward to admire her.
Michele took her baking mitts off, threw them on the counter, and approached her husband. “Yep, that’s me.” Placing a hand on one hip, she looked him up and down. “What kind of allegations are you talking about, big guy?”
Santa pulled a list from his pocket. “Let’s see here. Drinking and driving, smoking, purposely going over budget, coming home late without calling, sassing your daddy, lying, flipping your sister the bird, using profanity… I could go on, but I’m parked in a no-reindeer zone.”
“No, no, no. I’ve heard enough.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But has anyone bothered to tell you that I’ve already been punished for some of my past misconduct? Isn’t there a legal term known as double jeopardy where you can’t be tried twice for the same crime following a legitimate acquittal or conviction?”
“Yes, but I hear you were extremely disrespectful to your daddy last week. You know he gets awfully busy this time of year, and I don’t believe you’ve been punished for any of the sass you managed to spew at him recently.”
Michele’s eyes lowered. “You’re right, Santa, I’ve been behaving like a spoiled brat lately and got away with it because my daddy had been working such long hours. But tonight is Christmas Eve!”
“I agree, this is a very special time of year. But you’ve been a naughty girl, and I wouldn’t be a good Santa if I let you get away with such things. Remember, it’s my job to know who’s been naughty or nice.”
“Not to mention the help you received from those fucking elves at the country club that have been spying on me all year.” Michele took a deep breath and swallowed hard, finally deciding to rein in the sass. “You’re right, Santa. I’m guilty on all counts.”
“I don’t think we need much more of a discussion, so let’s go into the other room. Your bare bottom has been deserving a good hard spanking all week,” he stated in an exasperated but loving tone.
They entered the living room together and Paul sat on the couch. Michele sauntered over to the picture window and closed the heavy drapes. “You wouldn’t know this, Santa, but we have very nosy neighbors,” she said with a lopsided smile.
“Do you think this is funny, young lady?” He patted his lap, eyeing her intently.
Michele inched closer with fingers interlocked behind the small of her back.
“Come here. Now.” He curled a finger and pointed for her to stand before him.
She obeyed reluctantly.
“Lower your skirt,” he growled.
When she dropped the short denim fabric and kicked it aside, he grabbed her by the waist and bent his small wife over his hard thighs.
“Most people sit on Santa’s lap, not get tossed over it,” she sassed.
Paul shifted his wife forward a bit, placing her beautiful upturned bottom in a good spanking position. There was not a verbal exchange, or warm-up on her covered backside. Paul removed his white glove, yanked down her cotton panties, and applied his large hand to each bare cheek with hard and swift strokes. As he made contact again and again with her soft pale skin, Michele yelped and writhed with each quick swat.
“Oh, my God, that hurts! What happened to the glove?”
She screeched loudly as her husband continued sweeping his palm upward over each side of her bare bottom, watching it flutter and redden without conversation. Finally, after about twenty brisk spanks, he rested his hand on her hot flaming backside. “You have an extremely sassy mouth, my little kitten. What am I going to do with you?”
“I’m so sorry,” she answered, sniffling.
“We’ve been over this again and again, and I’m just not getting through to you.” He applied two stinging slaps to the sensitive area just beneath each cheek.
“I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” she yelled in between sobs. Her hands were on the floor, her full bottom was high, and the blood was rushing to her head as he continued to spank her hard and fast.
“Are you sure you’re ready to be a good girl now?” he asked, applying two more dramatic smacks across both red globes.
“Yes, sir.”
“Does your bottom feel hot and sore, young lady?”
“Yes, sir,” she repeated quietly.
“I know you enjoy acting sassy, but is it really worth having a fanny that feels like it’s on fire?”
“No, sir.”
“Well, your punishments are going to get longer and harder over my knee each time you decide to test my patience. From now on, the gloves are off, Michele, and I mean it literally and figuratively. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she responded, still sniffling.
“Go stand against the wall next to the tree,” he directed, helping her off his lap.
She wiped the tears from under her eyes as she assumed a familiar position, jutting her glowing bare bottom out into the room. Softly, she hiccupped, trying to regain her composure. Fifteen minutes later, Paul checked his watch.
“Come over for some love, my sweetie.”
True to form, Michele turned and ran into his arms, her eyes still swimming in tears. “I know you were very busy with work, and I’m sorry for being such a brat.”
“Were the cookies that came out of the oven earlier baked for Santa?”
She nodded her head and smiled through blurry vision.
He hugged her tight. “I’m glad it’s just going to be me and you tonight. I have a special dinner planned for us with all your favorites.”
“I have a surprise for you, too. But you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow because I haven’t wrapped it yet.” She draped her hands around his neck and sighed as she felt the hard bulge through his pants. “Thank God tomorrow is Friday,” she muttered into his large chest.
* * *
The next morning, Michele sat on the floor beside their tree. She was wearing her favorite pajamas and seemed to be deep in thought when Paul entered the room, clearing his throat.
“This certainly is an odd sight,” he announced before sitting down next to her.
She looked up at him and smiled. “I know. No
t one gift has been unwrapped yet.”
“Well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that something is weighing heavily on your mind. You’ve been down here for quite a while and haven’t accomplished much.” He twisted his body, peering around at the unopened gifts. “Are you worried about seeing your dad today?”
“No. I think it was nice of Marsha and Dave to invite my family for Christmas dinner tonight. I’ve actually spoken to my parents twice on the phone since Thanksgiving, so it shouldn’t be awkward seeing them.”
“What’s the problem then? You look concerned about something, kitten.”
“I just hope you like my present,” she said with tears forming in her eyes.
“Oh, my God. This is about a gift? Are you serious?”
She turned around and reached under the tree for a red and white striped box that was beautifully adorned by a red organza bow. Handing it to her husband, she shrugged. “I hope it fits.”
Paul took the gift from her hands. “I’m sure it will be perfect,” he said before reading the card on the outside. “Do not open until August 2016.” He seemed puzzled as he glanced from the card to his wife’s eyes that were brimming with tears. “That would be in eight months…”
She smiled and shrugged. “I’m late.”
“Oh, my God. Did you call Dr. Sippora?”
“Not yet, but I did a home pregnancy test—”
“And it was positive?”
She nodded as the tears leaked from her eyes. “I know we both wanted this, but we’ve been so happy with our new life. I’m worried that maybe this isn’t the right time for a change.”
He pulled her onto his lap, hugging her and kissing her wet cheeks repeatedly. “Our lives constantly change, whether we want them to or not. But this is the best kind of change. Are you kidding? This is the greatest gift we’ll ever receive!”
“How can we continue living the way we do while I’m pregnant? We certainly can’t share the DD and age-play aspects of our life with Dr. Sippora.”
Paul thumbed the tears from her face and gently wiped her nose. “Sweetie, he’s the perfect one to seek advice from. Kevin is extremely familiar with our lifestyle and will be able to guide us safely through your pregnancy.”
His Firm Hand Page 14