A Spanking Good New Year: Short Story Collection

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A Spanking Good New Year: Short Story Collection Page 6

by Rayanna Jamison

“Thank you.” He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Prior to the past day, he hadn’t realized how deeply his scars from his father really went, and how much of them he had carried into his marriage. As Luke and his wife had both pointed out, his self-awareness to it was a good thing. He just had to make sure it wasn’t the only thing. He had to learn to be confident in the fact that he was nothing like his father.

  “All right then,” he agreed, making a note on the paper. “We won’t take those things off the table, but I will only employ them if completely necessary, and only if I feel right about it. And you promise to tell me at any time if something I do upsets you or feels unfair.”

  “Yes, Troy. I’m not worried in the least, but I promise. Can we move on to the next thing now?”

  “Well, okay. Lucas thinks that even though you are an experienced spankee, I am not an experienced spanker, and because of that, he believes we should stick to hand spanking until we both feel comfortable. He says I will know when I am ready to move on, and when something more serious is warranted. Do you agree?”

  “That’s just fine, Troy, and perfect for our experiment. There is nothing as intimate as a hand spanking.”

  “It’s December twenty-sixth. And there are thirty-one days this month, so let’s agree to go over the data and agree on a conclusion on January twenty-fifth, thirty days from today.”

  “Whatever you say, dear.” Aurelia could hardly keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she rolled her eyes at him.

  Troy frowned. “You do that a lot, rolling your eyes at me. I don’t like it. Maybe we should make it our first rule.”

  The look of surprise and apprehension on her face was almost laughable. “I-I,” she sputtered. “I don’t know that it’s something I can control! I’d be in trouble constantly.”

  “Lucas said—” he began, only to have her cut him off with a muffled shriek.

  “I know what Lucas said! I was there! I heard all the same stuff you did. Lucas said that because of the short time period we were giving ourselves it would be best to choose some things that would potentially create opportunities to collect data! I know Troy! I can hear just fine, thank you!”

  Troy was nervous as he laid the tablet down on the table and stared at his angry wife, but he knew an opportunity had just presented itself and his mama had always told him to never look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Yes, it seems your hearing is intact, that is exactly what he said. And I think he’s right. We should take advantage of every opportunity to collect data, and I think this is our first chance right now.”

  Aurelia was glaring at him, and slowly shaking her head. He had to force himself to stay firm. He would explain his reasoning, and then wait to see how she felt after. “Aurelia, I simply made a small suggestion about an idea for a rule, and you began yelling at me. You have quite a temper at times, and I believe it will be your biggest downfall in this. There was absolutely no reason to yell at me the way you did, and because of that, I think you deserve your first official spanking.”

  His heart was in his throat as he finished speaking. This was more difficult than he had even imagined, when it was right in the heat of the moment, but Ria’s face had instantly softened as he uttered his explanation.

  Ria thought she could hear Troy’s heart racing as he made his speech, and she didn’t think she could possibly be prouder of him than she was in that moment, even though it meant undoubtedly awful things for the state of her still tender bottom.

  He was right. She did have a temper, and she yelled at him quite often. He had always been able to calm her before she turned into a raging lunatic at home, and it had never become a huge issue that affected their marriage as a whole, but it wouldn’t hurt her to learn to control it a bit better.

  She needed to submit to this spanking, for both their sakes. If this was truly what she wanted, she had to put her money where her mouth was, especially when Troy stepped up to the plate the way he just had.

  She hadn’t realized how humbling it would be to really submit to a spanking. But even now, before she voiced her agreement, her body was numb and she was on edge at the thought of what would soon follow.

  In the moment, she wanted to cling to her pride, and insist he was being unfair, and that she had done nothing wrong. She could see his unease in every line of his face as he waited for her response. Slowly, she nodded. “You’re right, Troy. There was no reason for me to react the way I did, and it wasn’t fair to you. I know that if I had stayed calm and discussed my misgivings in a calm and respectful manner, you would have listened and taken it into consideration. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. There was no reason for it, and it seems only fair that my outburst be the cause of my first spanking.” Now it was her turn to hold her breath, and hope that she hadn’t ruined everything already.

  Troy stood, lifted his high-backed dining chair and carried it into the middle of the living room. She watched with big eyes, and a knot in her stomach as he sat down, and silently patted his knee. “Come here then, Aurelia. Your behavior was uncalled for and I’m going to spank you so that you remember to be more mindful of your temper in the future.”

  The image of her husband in that chair, calling her over, and preparing to spank her was nearly more than she could bear. But she knew he was right. She deserved this, and it was a good opportunity for their experiment. Still, she was more than a little nervous as she shuffled over to him.

  “C’mon now, this is what you wanted. You want a strong husband to take you in hand when you need it, and you need it now. Come on over here and lay across my lap so we can get your punishment over with, and continue our conversation with a little more mindfulness, hmm?”

  When she reached him, he fell silent, and guided her over his lap. “Our first rule, and it’s one for me as well, is to be respectful and mindful when we speak to each other. That means to convey our thoughts in a calm and rational manner without shrieking, or insulting the other person. Do you agree to that?”

  Their month long experiment, which had seemed a very abstract idea until this point, suddenly became all too real as she stared down at the carpet with her husband’s heavy hand perched across her bottom and his lecture ringing in her ears.

  “Yes, Troy.”

  He swatted her backside over the top of her thin skirt and she yelped in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Yes, what?” he asked, his tone expectant.

  “I-I don’t know!” Her blood rushed to her head as she tried to figure out what he wanted her to say, but her brain had turned to mush the second he had flipped her across his knee.

  “Yes, sir,” he informed her with a sigh. “The book says that when you are being disciplined, you should respond with ‘Yes, sir’. It helps me to check your attitude, and helps keep you in the proper mindset to receive your punishment and learn from it.”

  “Oh.” It was all she could think of to say. She had been raised to call her father and her elders, ‘sir’, but it had never occurred to her to address her husband the same way.

  The smack of his hand across her backside told her he thought differently. “Yes, sir,” she said quietly, rolling the words off her tongue slowly, as if trying them on for size. Instantly, she realized she felt more receptive to the lesson he was about to impart on her backside. Hmm, imagine that.

  He seemed to like it too. “That’s better!” She could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. “This is going to be a minor spanking – because it’s our first, and because it wasn’t a rule beforehand.”

  “Yes, sir!” Her body sagged with relief as she waited.

  “But, it’s going to be on your bare bottom,” he warned, even as he began to roll down her skirt and panties together, leaving them to rest just below her bottom. “I’m going to give you ten swats.”

  It took everything in her not to roll her eyes, not at the number, but at the matter-of-fact way he announced his every move. She wondered if he expected her to respond e
very time he spoke.

  She said nothing, and he didn’t wait for a response.

  “I’m going to start now.”

  Her shoulders tensed as she braced herself. She had learned last night that even with just his hand, her husband could pack a mean wallop. Lord help her when they moved onto other implements in the future.

  The sting of a hard flattened hand against her bare backside was something she had not felt in a long time, and she wasn’t quite prepared for the intense stinging pain the first swat left. Of course, it probably didn’t help that she was still a little sore from her shenanigans the day before.

  He gave her no time to recover, laying the second, third, and fourth swats in quick succession before he paused.

  “The book said I should talk to you, while I spank, to make sure the lesson is associated with the pain of the spanking. Said it will help it sink in and make an impression.” She could tell from his soft tone that he was speaking more to himself than to her.

  And then his voice got deeper, and more authoritative, sending a ripple of shivers down her spine. This was a side of Troy she had never seen. “Why are you bent over my knee, getting your bare bottom spanked, Ria? What did you do that caused you to find yourself in this position?”

  He punctuated the question with a swat that had her rearing up on his lap as she gasped in shock. She couldn’t focus on anything other than how much it had hurt, and yet he was expecting an answer.

  “Because I got a temper for no reason!” she wailed, feeling very much like a repentant child.

  Troy waited for her to calm herself and get back into position, and no sooner than she was, he continued the assault on her poor bottom. One smack fell after another, as he alternated from one cheek to the next. She kept count silently in her head, and when the last one fell, so did her tears.

  This shocked her. She didn’t cry easily from a spanking, certainly not from ten with his hand. But there was something different this time, a whole new set of feelings. For the first time ever, she felt completely cleansed, and also very ashamed of her behavior in the first place, but she also felt more loved, safe, and cherished than she ever had before.

  She lay quietly over his lap, while he righted her clothes, pulling her panties and skirt both up to cover her now throbbing bottom. Then he pulled her into a sitting position on his lap, smiling slightly when she winced as she sat.

  “How do you feel?” she asked him tearfully.

  “I feel… like we should both go write out exactly how we feel for five minutes, and then come back and finish our discussion.”

  She wanted to cuddle on his lap, and wipe her tears into his shirt, and whisper promises of future good behavior, and he was concerned about recording data of their reactions first and foremost. Of course he was, because that’s who he is. It’s okay, she told herself. He’ll get to the chapter on aftercare soon enough.

  Chapter 4

  Ria sat in a hard wood chair, with her skirt lifted so that the only thing between her freshly spanked bottom and the cold hard wood was her thin cotton panties, just the way Troy had wanted it. They were only two days into their experiment, and about two-thirds of the way through the book, but he was certainly catching on quick.

  Perhaps a little too quickly, she mused, shifting in the chair as she opened the light blue notebook she was supposed to use to record her feelings and thoughts. At least he had finally gotten to the chapter on aftercare, and spent a little time talking to her afterwards before sending her off to record data.

  Day Two, she wrote.

  Got in trouble for yelling at Troy again. It’s basically the only rule that has gotten me spanked so far. And it’s the one I don’t see going away anytime soon, so I better get a handle on my temper before I basically have to live standing up. Ever since Christmas Day, I’ve gotten spankings on top of spankings on top of spankings.

  I sound like I’m complaining, I’m not. While I’m sometimes prone to asking myself what in the world was I thinking when I signed up for this, especially when I find myself bottoms up over his knee, I’m not complaining at all.

  The truth is, except for those few minutes I’m thrashing around over his knee, I feel like the luckiest wife on the planet. Being spanked by my husband is completely different than being spanked by a parent. The calm and focus I have always felt afterwards is tenfold, maybe because I’m actually working on things that need to be worked on within myself and my marriage, instead of having to act out in random ways to get a spanking to try to feel better about those other things. I don’t know what Troy writes afterwards. But I hope he doesn’t hate it. I hope this is an epiphany for him – that domestic discipline in the right relationship can be a good thing. Because honestly, I don’t know if I can go back to not being a spanked wife. I feel so cherished, and cared for, like he cares what I do all day, and whether I take care of myself or not. It’s the strangest feeling, but also the loveliest. And the sex? We had a pretty good sex life before, or so I thought; I certainly wasn’t complaining. But now? Well, we can hardly keep our hands off each other and we are doing things in the bedroom we have never done before!

  Pausing, she chewed on the end of her pen, wondering if she had said too much, and then decided it didn’t matter. The only person who was going to be reading this was Troy, so what did he care if she wrote about their sex life or not? It had improved, so there was no harm in saying so. She read over what she wrote, and decided she had said more than enough. Just writing about the delicious things they had been doing in the bedroom had started that slow delicious ache between her legs, and now all she could think about was finding her husband, and satiating the need that was currently threatening to overwhelm her.

  Every time Ria got spanked, Troy made them both write down their thoughts in a journal of sorts. Ria was getting spanked a lot, which meant he was having to write down his thoughts and feelings a lot. Troy was used to writing, but it was usually notebooks full of notes and theories, or facts and figures. Writing down his thoughts and feelings was new to him.

  All in the name of research, he reminded himself, opening the notebook for the second time that day.

  Day Two

  I’ve had to spank Ria twice today, and it’s not even dinner time yet. Both times were for her temper, which tells me this is a far bigger problem that I had previously realized. One thing it has done, also, is to make me far more mindful of the way I speak to her. I can’t be a hypocrite.

  Troy paused, and frowned, thinking once again of his own parents’ relationship.

  My father could, he wrote. But I can’t and won’t. As far as the physical act of spanking her, I feel like a jerk, because I almost enjoy it, not the causing her pain part, but watching her squirm in my lap, as her bottom turns red under my hand… It’s kind of exciting. It makes me feel more masculine that anything ever has, and I can’t wait to get her to the bedroom afterwards. The book I’ve been reading discourages that for the most part, but I honestly can’t find a way around it. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.

  Just writing about being turned on made him turned on and he wondered for a moment if this was why women liked to read and write romance novels.

  Slamming the notebook shut, he went in search of his wife. He found her in their bedroom, a sight that made his groin stir with need. She had ditched her skirt, and even her cardigan sweater, as well as her panties and was lying across their bed wearing only a tight white camisole. Her bottom still glowed red from the evening’s activities, and she looked coyly over her shoulder at him as he entered.

  “Hey there, handsome,” she cooed as he slowly made his way across the room to sit on the edge of their bed and take off his own shoes and shirt.

  The sight of her red bottom against their white duvet entranced him, and he slowly reached out to stroke her tender globes, still warm to the touch. “Your bottom is so red.” He was filled with awe at how much it turned him on to see it that way.

  She rolled her eyes, and crinkled he
r nose in disgust. “I know. It hurts,” she said with a playful pout. “Big meanie.”

  “I’m the meanie, huh?” He laughed, pinching the palest part of her bottom he could find – the fleshy piece where bottom meets thigh – until she squealed. “You’re the one who keeps losing her temper. I’m glad your bottom hurts. Spankings are supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to remind you to be a good girl the next time you start to raise your voice at me.”

  “Newsflash,” she bit out dryly, “it’s not working.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to be more thorough next time.”

  “No! Okay, okay! I’ll remember to be a good girl! If… you kiss it and make it better.”

  His eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. “You want me to kiss it?” Even as he spoke, he moved further onto the bed until he was lying next to her – him on his back, and she on her stomach – and removed her camisole.

  “I’ll kiss you,” he whispered, leaning in to brush her lips with a kiss.

  “That works.” Ria moaned softly, rolling onto her side and moving toward him.

  He dipped his head, laying a trail of soft kisses up one side of her neck, and down the other, then down her chest – stopping only slightly to softly suck each nipple – before continuing his trail down the middle of her belly.

  She was shivering in anticipation as he moved lower and lower, until he finally reached the top of her womanly mound. He looked up at her and smiled. “I’m not going to kiss your bottom. I’ve got something else in mind.”

  Day three fell on a Monday, a fact that was making Aurelia nervous. The one thing that Troy seemed the most serious about, besides her temper was her penchant for being late, especially to work, and the fact that she often drove over the speed limit even to get there when she did, which was often five to ten minutes late.

  She had planned it out – down to laying out her clothes and packing her lunch ahead of time – but she had tossed and turned stressing about it so much that she had hit the snooze button three times, throwing her entire schedule out of whack. Add that to the fact that it was the mondayest Monday ever, with her pantyhose catching on the knob of the bathroom cabinet and getting a snag, to the coffee she spilled on her blouse just as she was about to walk out the door. Speeding was a bigger offense she figured, than just being late, so she’d arrived a full twenty minutes late – leaving her with both an unhappy boss and an unhappy husband to boot. To top it all off, she had left her lunch on the table when she had gone back to change her blouse.

 

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