****
He wanted to haul his naughty wife over his lap on the bench, but he couldn’t. They needed privacy. So, until they left the exhibit, he resolved to maintain appearances for her sake. Obviously this exhibit had been important to Stephie, but it wounded him that she’d gone behind his back. His anger flared so hot his ears tingled. He met her worried gaze before leaning over to speak directly in her ear.
“After the exhibit ends, we’ll spend the night in a hotel before heading home in the morning,” he said.
“But what about Darla? Besides, all my stuff is at her apartment. My car is there too.”
“We’ll swing by her place in the morning to get your things and your car.” He paused and drew back to pierce her with a firm look. “Unless you’d like your sister to hear your spanking?”
The color drained from her face. “Can’t my spanking wait until we get home? Someone at the hotel might hear.”
“No one will hear a thing. The walls at the hotel aren’t as thin as in Darla’s apartment.”
She tensed and glanced down at the drink in her hand. “All right. I should tell Darla. Are we leaving now?”
His mood softened to see her lip trembling slightly, as well as the disappointment in her eyes as she scanned the room. “We can stay as long as you’d like, sweetheart.” He brought her free hand to his lips, kissing the softness of the back of her hand. “I’m glad you’re safe. I was worried about you.”
“I’m sorry I was so thoughtless. I just wanted to prove to you I can do this. I can travel like I used to and nothing bad will come of it. I want you to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he said. “Even despite this little stunt of yours, I do trust you, Stephie. That’s not the reason I’ve been hesitant to allow you to travel as you did in the past.” His throat tightened and burned. Once upon a time, he’d almost lost her. But she’d been given a second chance. They’d been given a second chance. Except he wasn’t living out the second chance. He’d become stuck in the past, and Stephie’s longing to embrace her life after recovery clashed with his constant worry. “Perhaps I’ve been a little too overprotective,” he admitted.
A smile broke across her face, lighting her eyes. “Just a little?” Her teasing caused his anger to wane.
“Okay, more than a little. But I think maybe we can reach a compromise. One overnight trip a month. Anything beyond that will be subject to my approval.”
Her grin widened. “You mean it?”
Once again, he brought her hand to his lips. “Yes, sweetheart, I mean it.”
Her expression turned playful, and she cocked her head to the side. Mischief lighted her features. “Does this mean I don’t get a spanking?”
“What do you think?”
She grew somber and her gaze flickered around the room. Finally, she met his eyes. “I know I was naughty.”
“Very naughty. You can count on a good scolding before your spanking, too, young lady. I’m not happy with the stunt you pulled. Yes, it got my attention, but your little stunt nearly gave me a heart attack.”
She sighed, closing her eyes as she nodded in acceptance. Marcus didn’t demand they leave the exhibit immediately, but he stayed at her side until the guests began to dwindle and the closing hour neared. Darla seemed relieved to hear they’d be spending the night in a hotel. Apparently she’d met a man at the exhibit and wanted to bring him home for coffee.
Tension swelled in the car as Marcus drove them to a hotel where he’d made a reservation earlier in the day. After checking in, they found their room on the tenth floor and ordered a light dinner. Stephie picked at her food and kept casting him nervous glances. She had plenty to be nervous about, too, because he didn’t plan to go easy on her. He’d punished her thoroughly last week and brought her to tears, and this first real punishment hadn’t broken her. Or him. Instead, it had strengthened their marriage.
He had to remain firm.
Once dinner was out of the way, they cuddled on a couch near the window and gazed at the unending expanse of city lights. He stroked her hair, kissed her neck, and squeezed her hands in his. She remained tense in his arms though, and he suspected the tension wouldn’t leave her until he’d chastised her properly. He leaned back and tilted her chin up. Determination filled him.
“It’s time.”
“All right,” she whispered. Worry flashed in her eyes, but she didn’t try to talk her way out of the spanking. In the past, she’d never tried to talk her way out of a punishment. She joked about it now and then, as she had at the exhibit, but she’d never truly pleaded for him to let her off the hook.
He respected her submission, however reluctant it might be in the face of a spanking, and he treasured her all the more for following his lead. He cursed himself for shirking his duties as head of household since her recovery, but he resolved to think of the last year as a lesson that now paved the way for a time to heal.
He stood up, drawing her to her feet with him. He stared down at her, all sweetness and remorse as her hands fidgeted at her sides. The elegant purple dress suited her figure, accentuating her ample bosom and tapering to her hips, where it flared outward and swept to the floor.
“Remove your clothing, Stephie. Everything.”
Chapter Five
Stephie flushed from head to toe under Marcus’s stern gaze.
“I’m waiting, little girl. Take the dress off and everything underneath it, too. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
Oh, she knew. Sighing, she reached back to unzip her gown. It fell to her feet in a pool of purple silken fabric, and she stood before her fully clothed husband in nothing but a strapless bra and a skimpy thong. She’d lost her high heels the moment they’d walked in the hotel room.
“I’m still waiting.” His gaze swept over her, and her sense of vulnerably heightened.
Closing her eyes, she unhooked her bra and let it slide away. Still keeping her eyes shut tight, she stepped out of her thong and pushed the pile of clothing to the side with her foot.
“Look at me,” Marcus said, his voice deep and strained.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and peered up at him. His sternness remained, and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt while she’d taken off her undergarments. Butterflies flittered in her stomach, and her breathing became labored. This punishment would be different from the one she’d received days ago in their bedroom. Her transgression was so much worse than resistance and being mouthy. She’d planned her disobedience down to the very last detail. “You were very naughty, Stephie,” he said, beginning her scolding. The butterflies in her stomach flittered faster and seemed to rise to her throat. She felt sick with remorse. He’d obviously been sick with worry. All because of her.
“You left town without telling me where you were going. You left me to assume you’d gone to New York. I had to assume that because in your naughtiness, you didn’t even have the courtesy of leaving me a note. Think about that, Stephie. Think about how worried I was when you didn’t answer your phone. Yes, that’s right. Not only did you not have the courtesy to leave a note, but you didn’t have the courtesy to answer your phone or return a call or text message. You had the ability to contact me and you didn’t. Did you see my calls and texts on your cell phone as they came in?” His voice had risen, but he wasn’t yelling.
“I . . . I turned my phone off.” Oh, she felt miserable. What had she been thinking turning her phone off like that? What if he’d needed to get ahold of her for an emergency? Going off the grid for hours wasn’t acceptable. She was his wife, and while he had never given her rules about staying connected to him via cell phone, the rule was implied. Purposefully keeping herself out of reach was intolerable. Thoughtless and selfish. She cringed inwardly and resisted the urge to cover her nudity.
“But you must have turned it on at some point to send me that text.”
“I decided to send you one text and then turn my phone off again. I’m so sorry. I saw you’d left messag
es, but I didn’t listen to them. I skimmed the texts, sent you the one text, then turned it off because I couldn’t bear to speak with you. Not right before the exhibit.” She made to lower her head, but he immediately reached out, stilling her movement with a finger under her chin. She had nowhere to hide. Nowhere to look except into his dark, intense eyes.
Tears ran down her cheeks as he scolded her over her irresponsible and careless behavior. By the time he finished, she felt as chastised as she felt after the most severe spanking in the past, but no, she still had a spanking coming. That knowledge brought more tears to her eyes. She couldn’t recall a time she’d been in such deep trouble. Despite how much the spanking would hurt, she longed to be over his lap. She longed for his forgiveness. To feel his arms around her as he stroked her hair and murmured soothing words into her ear.
Marcus grasped her hand and led her across the room. To the bed. Her legs shook with each step. He sat down and guided her over his lap, and she offered no resistance. The comforter soaked up her tears, and she turned her face to the side, drawing in deep breaths as her anticipation grew.
He positioned her bottom high in the air over one knee and brought his other leg down atop her legs. Tremors ran through her, and she gasped when he cupped her cheeks. He didn’t begin immediately, instead massaging her flesh to prepare her for the imminent spanking. After about two minutes, his hand left her bottom and his other hand pressed down on her lower back.
She pressed her eyes shut, holding her breath. Thwack! The first slap caught her lower right cheek, and the next slap caught her opposite cheek. His hand came down, again and again, the sting building up with each slap until her bottom felt like an inferno. Maintaining silence through the pain became difficult, and her cries soon tore through the air.
“You will never, ever run off without telling me where you are going, young lady. Am I making myself clear?” As he scolded, he maintained a swift pace of spanks, centering most of his attention on the lower curve of her bottom.
“Yes!” She wiggled and reached back to cover her scorched backside. She couldn’t possibly take one more slap. Her flesh blazed and throbbed. Sobs shook her shoulders and tears soaked her face. Shame welled up deep in her chest, her remorse warring with her desire for the spanking to end. She trusted Marcus and knew he wouldn’t harm her, but oh how her bottom hurt. Misery swallowed her whole.
“You know better,” he said, growling as he pinned her hands at the small of her back.
Of course she knew better. She’d known better than to run off to New York against Marcus’s wishes, but she’d done so anyway. All to get his attention. Well, she’d succeeded. But as the spanking continued, she decided her naughtiness hadn’t been worth it. Running off to New York had been the equivalent of a temper tantrum.
Just when she didn’t think it could sting any worse, his hand stilled on her bottom, and he cupped her tender, well-punished flesh. He released her wrists, and she brought her hands to cover her face as the rest of her emotion came pouring out.
****
Warmth and tenderness overcame Marcus as he gazed down at Stephie. Relief filled him, too, because he’d punished her and brought her to tears for a second time, and neither of them was broken. Even though her sobs pulled at his heartstrings, he knew the pain of her spanking and the cathartic release of tears was necessary for them both. For her because she desired to be under his authority and would’ve experienced soul-crushing guilt had he not punished her. For him because he loved her and wanted to ensure her protection, to make sure she never disobeyed in such a manner again.
Red handprints marred her bottom, and he rubbed her scorching hot cheeks as her crying slowed. She sniffled and took a few deep breaths, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. Marcus turned her around and sat her on his lap, cradling her in a strong embrace. No words passed between them, the only sound being the faint ticking of his watch and her sniffles.
“Shh,” he said, stroking her hair. She nestled against his chest, as if trying to hide from the world. He tightened his arms around her body, never wishing to release her. His wife. His beautiful, sweet wife. Alive. Healthy. He vowed to treasure every day they had together for the rest of their lives, and he vowed to stop living in the past. No more fear.
“Do . . . do you forgive me?”
“Of course I do, sweetheart. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” She sighed and relaxed in his hold, her breath warming his chest through his shirt.
Minutes passed, and every time Stephie shifted in his lap, his cock swelled harder and his balls felt heavy and tense. Desire combined with his need to comfort her, and when she withdrew from his arms to gaze up at him with her pretty blue eyes, he grasped her face between his hands and kissed her with a longing that left them both breathless.
Marcus shifted her off his lap and onto the bed. She winced as her bottom came into contact with the comforter, and he smirked playfully down at her, crawling atop her to trail kisses down her neck, until his lips reached a nipple. He swirled his tongue around the bud until it hardened in his mouth, and he nipped it with his teeth before pulling away to give her other nipple the same rough attention. Moaning beneath him, she arched her center to meet his groin.
He sat up and began unbuttoning his shirt, all the while holding her gaze. Face flushed, she panted and rose up on her elbows, then spread her legs slightly as mischief flashed in her eyes. He tossed his shirt to the floor and stood to remove his pants. He couldn’t get them off fast enough.
Shock rooted him to the floor when Stephie licked her fingers and boldly reached for her pussy, opening her thighs wider before delving her fingers into her slick folds and focusing on her clit. Swirling. Pinching. With her other hand she cupped her breast, kneading the firm mound as she played with her pussy.
So naughty.
“You know that’s against the rules, young lady.” He spoke with a sternness that made her gasp, and she pulled her hand away from her center as if to pretend she hadn’t just touched herself. “Tsk, tsk,” he said. “You know very well, little girl, you’re only allowed to touch yourself with my permission.”
“I’m truly sorry, sir.”
“Spread your legs farther. Farther. Good. Now bend your knees and hold your legs up with your hands.” He kicked his pants aside and watched as she obeyed, exposing her smooth shaven, pink pussy to his gaze. Moisture shone on her nether lips, and some of it reflected on her inner thighs. He sank down on the bed. “So wet. So naughty. Naughty girls need to be punished, don’t they, Stephie?”
“Y-yes, sir,” she said, her limbs quivering. She knew from experience what to expect. Touching herself resulted in a very specific brand of punishment.
He trailed his fingers through her wetness until two of his fingers were well-coated, and he nudged at her bottom hole. “Don’t you dare tense up on me, little girl.” He glanced up to see her eyes wide and her cheeks growing redder by the second. He pressed forward, slipping his thick digits into her tight bottom hole and not stopping until he’d entered her completely.
“You know what comes next.” With his free hand, he covered her pussy and placed his flattened fingertips over her clit. Smack! He struck her wet center, the slap echoing through the room. She winced and her muscles tightened around his submerged fingers. A second later, her sphincter relaxed, but her body tensed as she awaited the next blow. “I think ten spanks in all should do it,” he said.
He landed another blow to her pussy, centering the slap to her clit. And another slap, and another, until he reached ten. Each time he brought his hand down to chastise her, her bottom hole tightened around his fingers. It was the perfect punishment for an impatient, naughty girl who’d touched herself without permission.
Slowly, he withdrew from her ass and positioned his cock at her pussy. She thrust her center up to meet his engorged rod, and he teased his cock over her bright red, swollen clit. A few slaps had doubled its size. He spread more moisture over the enlarged nub, and her m
oans turned to whimpers as her frustration and need mounted. He met her eyes and surged into her depths, driving forward hilt-deep while holding her hips in place.
He withdrew a few degrees and slammed into her. Deep. Fast. He released her hips and leaned over her, the heat of their bodies mingling as his urgency grew, pulsing within her wetness. He seized her ear lobe, clamping his teeth down until she cried out. Desire spiraled through him, driving him mad with the need to fully claim her and seal the forgiveness between them. He pumped into her, shaking the bed with his quick, forceful movements.
“Marcus!”
His name on her lips, followed by her body quaking as she came and her muscles contracting around his cock, pushed him over the edge and into a hard release. His balls drew up tight. Stars danced in his darkening vision. He filled Stephie with his seed, groaning deep in his throat as his cock pulsated until the tremors of the powerful quaking in his loins ceased. He withdrew and collapsed behind her, pulling her close to his heart, right where she belonged.
Forever and always.
MAKING IT ‘WRITE’
By Celeste Jones
Chapter One
Jill wiggled as unobtrusively as possible on the hard wooden chair. She glanced around the gathering but none of the other women seemed to find the seats uncomfortable. Of course, they may not have arrived at the PTA meeting with a freshly spanked ass, either.
She covered her mouth with her hand and pressed against the area just below her nose to keep from giggling. What would the fine ladies of the Hooper Valley PTA think if they knew her morning had included a session across her husband’s knee? There were roughly twenty other women in the room, surely at least one of them was a spanked wife… or wished she was.
What about Cheryl, so prim and proper, always perfectly groomed and her children impeccably dressed and behaved. Did her Stepford Wife exterior hide a spanko existence?
Milestones Page 15