Exile to Unity

by Tara Finnegan

  “I don’t know why you’re so afraid of DD,” Bethany said after entertaining the group with the details of her latest punishment. “You said yourself you love being spanked, but sometimes don’t know how to come around to it. If you’re DD, there’s no problem finding an excuse.”

  “I don’t like being told what to do,” Ange rationalized.

  “Why are you making this potato thing?”

  “Because Jim asked me to.”

  “Exactly. Who leaves out the garbage?”

  “Jim usually does. When I remind him,” Ange answered. “I don’t get your point.”

  “All relationships have a certain amount of being told what to do, both ways. Some more than others but it can be by polite request, nagging, bitching or a toasting on the butt. Without cooperation no relationship can thrive. DD just adds a different dimension. If a non DD couple is mad at each other, they still find ways of punishing one another. But often it’s sulks or silent treatment. And that can go on and on until it poisons a relationship,” Bethany said.

  “Maybe, but I’m sure there are many bad DD marriages too.” Ange countered.

  “I’m sure there are, people are human and nothing is perfect. But the way I see it is that our arguments don’t last and I don’t get told what to do any more often than you might. But when I am, I know I had better get onto it or else. And that’s how I like it. If Kirk didn’t keep me in line, all my bills would be late, I’d have to pay countless fines and I’d overspend non-stop. He saves me a fortune. And, of course, making up is better than in non-spanking relationships.”

  “But you just said Kirk punished you for spending too much yesterday so it obviously doesn’t change anything, you still do it and he still gets mad.”

  “But then it’s over. He’s not mad anymore and we don’t keep on fighting about it. And even if I do push it, I usually ask myself whether it will be worth the consequences. Sometimes I decide it is, other times it’s not.”

  “I’d never let Jim spank me like that, I’d fucking kill him if he did,” Ange answered. Simultaneously she heard Jim’s sharp “ANGE!” and also saw the look of disapproval. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the profanity or because she said she would kill him, but, either way, he didn’t look too happy.

  “Hello ladies, sorry to interrupt the party, but I really need to have a word with my wife. She’ll be right back with you. Ange, a word in private please.” Ange left her seat, boiling at how he had just humiliated her. He put the TV on low on a children’s channel, settled the kids in front of it and Ange heard him tell Ava to look after Jack and they’d be back in a couple of minutes. She saw the serious, responsible little girl nod her head in agreement.

  He led her up to their bedroom and shut the door.

  “That’s it, Ange, party’s over. Couldn’t you see your language was inappropriate, not to mention the way you were referring to me? And why is the house full of people again? I left you alone so you could make Boxty without the kids being a problem, and instead you’re drinking, swearing and offending your customers, who incidentally shouldn’t be here at this hour. Now you ask them to leave or I will.”

  “They’re not customers, they’re friends. They called in to visit and we had a glass of wine each, that’s hardly a major drinking session. I wouldn’t send Brent or Kirk or any of the men away if they called to see you. Don’t you fucking dare do this to me.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, Ange, if it was a once off, I wouldn’t be angry. But this is the third time this week. And I warned you about your language already. I don’t see any attempt at improvement. I will spank you tonight for your language, and I will also start spanking if you don’t make more of an attempt to have the house empty in the evenings. And if you disrespect me like that again in public. Is that clear? Now go on back down and we’ll finish this discussion later, but get rid of them as quickly as you can.”

  “They helped me make the Boxty so I promised them they could try some,” Ange said.

  “And they can. In their own homes. I mean it, Ange. As soon as it’s ready, give them some and get them out.”

  Ange was raging. How dare he? They certainly would talk about it again as soon as her guests were gone, but not in the way he expected. He was listening to Kirk way too much lately and more and more he was trying to force DD on her. She bit her tongue for now, as the ladies would notice the frost in the air, but by God, she’d have her say later. She was no longer much in the mood to be sociable, either. Before the timer even buzzed she was explaining that it needed to cool before it could be used. Once it came out of the oven, she cut one of the loaves in half and gave a piece to each of the ladies.

  “Wait ‘til it’s cool at the very least, or it’ll be even better if you wait ‘til tomorrow. Cut a few slices and then fry the slices in butter until they’re golden and crisp,” Ange advised. She knew the atmosphere in the room had changed and it was partly her fault. She was still fuming inwardly. Once the others left, the house was yet again shrouded in silence, except when the children spoke. Ange was not very good at admitting her mistakes, she knew this was one of her biggest weaknesses but she found it difficult to overcome. If she could even accept blame for the earlier part of the week, Jim would forgive the ad hoc callers this evening. Equally if she accepted chastisement for the swearing, then it would be over and done with. But to do either would be to admit culpability for something she considered unfair, and the very thought of that chaffed her nerves. Especially when he wouldn’t see the contradiction of how the house should be free for him to enjoy, yet he could get so annoyed about her having a glass of wine with two friends. Had it been Kirk and Brent over for a beer, Ange would have been much more welcoming.

  Seeing Jim sitting there in front of the fire watching TV and messing with the kids, part of her wanted to climb down off her high horse, but she just didn’t know how. Had she felt less hard done by she thought she may have been able to reach out. She tidied up the kitchen and went upstairs where she lay on the bed reading, to escape the frostbite that was threatening to engulf her. The heat from baking and the fire and the glass of wine must have made her nod off. The next thing she knew the door was closing and Jim was standing over her with his belt in his hand.

  “Roll over and we’ll get this over with,” he ordered.

  “But…”

  “Ange, we talked about cleaning up your language right at the start. It seems you need a reminder. Do it now and I’ll stop at twenty, argue and it goes up in tens for each protest.”

  “Fine, be like that,” she snapped as she rolled over onto her tummy huffily. She’d make him pay for this one, she thought. He pulled down her pajama bottoms roughly.

  “Ouch,” she protested as he brought his belt down hard.

  “I’m not starting on the swearing one until I see a better attitude, young lady.” Jim warned as he repeatedly whipped her through her resistance. She squirmed and kicked as he spanked.

  “Okay! I’m sorry, I’ll accept my punishment.”

  “Remind me, what’s it for?” He stopped spanking to give her a chance to speak.

  “For saying fuck, but I think it’s unfair, we both swear and we always did. I don’t see why I should be punished.”

  “It’s not just about one swear word, and you know it. You made your guests uncomfortable. You saw Bethany’s face.”

  “Yes, but I don’t think it was about the language, it was because I criticized DD. But I shouldn’t have done that. Or slighted you.”

  “Good girl, Ange, finally. An admission. That didn’t hurt, did it?”

  “N-no, I suppose not.”

  “I know you think I’m unfair, but you really have to curtail the callers. It’s happening too often. I agree that you would have welcomed my friends as you said, but I don’t think you would have been happy if it was the third evening this week, would you?”

  When he put it like that, Ange could accept that he had a point. If the house was constantly inundated by
Jim’s friends in the evenings, she would soon get irritated. And she could accept that had she walked in and heard him deriding her the way she had been him, she would have been less than impressed. She shook her head.

  “Now relax those cheeks and open up to the punishment. This part will hurt, more than the admission.” He brought his belt down hard, and it was as much as Ange could do not to scream as the cruel implement met its target, sending a wide stripe of red hot agony through her already heated buttocks. A pillow muffled her yelp.

  “One, Sir,” she counted. This continued to ten, hard and fast and she called out the stroke, crying by now. She was already scorched by his hand spanking and the belt was just so damn painful. “Copper,” she roared.

  He stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s too much, too sore,” she sobbed.

  “Is that all? It’s a punishment, Ange, it’s supposed to hurt. But you can have a breather. Go and stand in the corner. Leave your pajamas down. Hands on your head and nose pressed to the wall.”

  Ange found the waiting almost worse than the actual spanking. She felt ridiculously embarrassed, standing there in that position, bottom sticking out, sore and no doubt bright red. And Jim’s eyes, she could feel them boring into her, even though she couldn’t see them. Her tears had stopped, humiliation now overriding any physical pain. Then he ordered her to stay like that while he checked on the children. And there she waited, not daring to move until he returned. Ange estimated he must have been gone at least ten minutes. The sting might have subsided but now she had aching arms to add to her discomfort. She was almost relieved when he returned. But he kept her in that position, standing close behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her neck and his body heat radiating off him. Jim made her stand like that for a further five minutes while he scolded her again about her behavior, before finally telling her to return to the bed for the remainder of her spanking.

  He brought the belt down again, this time, as a concession, switching to her pale white thighs, which hadn’t been spanked yet. She yelped again at that, her thighs weren’t as tough as her behind as he didn’t spank them as often but he ignored her pleas and yells. When he came to sixteen he paused.

  “Four more, Ange. You can take them here or if it really is too much, I can do your tits. Your choice.”

  Some choice, he’d never spanked her breasts, not even lightly, but her whole back end was on fire. She’d often told him that having her breasts punished was a fantasy, ever since reading Jane Eyre in her late teens; the scene where Jane had to open her top of smock to be punished by her boarding school teacher. She felt her pussy pulsate at the idea as she considered her options. But a belt on the breasts would be too much she feared, especially if he caught her nipples.

  “N-n-no. It’s okay, continue. Nearly there.” Ange braced herself and accepted the last four as quietly as she could. Funnily enough, she was no longer angry. She just wanted it over with. She wanted the cold war to end, to join the family in front of the TV, and laugh along with them.

  “I’m sorry I embarrassed you,” Ange offered as soon as he stopped spanking. “Can we start the evening over? And I’ll try not to have the house full so often.”

  She gingerly moved to a sitting position but it was a tall order as every inch of her rear and thighs stung like hell. He sat beside her and hugged her tight.

  “I’m afraid we’re losing us and becoming two separate people. We have been for a couple of years now. We need to get back on track before it’s too late. I want DD to try to stop the rot, and it’s not about punishing you, it’s more about how close we get afterwards. Can we give it a try?”

  “I don’t want you turning into something I’m afraid of.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He laughed kindly, “you’re afraid of nothing and no-one, Ange, trust me. But if we set rules and stick to them then it could work. What if I promise not to spank outside the rules and we do a review every couple of weeks to see how it feels for both of us?”

  “Two weeks, then we review, deal?” Ange twisted his words to her advantage.

  “Too short, two weeks and we talk about it, but I think we need to try it for at least a few months.”

  “One month is the best I’ll offer. You have one month to convince me.”

  “It’s a start, I suppose,” he agreed. “Come on downstairs now, please?” Rising, he took her by the hand and gently pulled her up. “I’d really much rather climb in there beside you and fuck the arse of you, but we better go spend the evening with the kids. Later – it’s a promise.”

  Ange allowed him to pull her up, reluctantly. She too would have much preferred he came into bed and put the anger behind them, starting afresh by connecting through passionate lovemaking. But she was glad to go and join the kids, too. They had experienced the chill in the air to some extent and it wasn’t their fault that she had been grumpy. It could keep. Getting the family unit back on the right track was way more important.

  She fried some of the cooled Boxty and some bacon and placed it on the coffee table in front of the TV. Eating in the living area was normally a no-no, but she was reluctant to move them from the comfort of the fire and the easy camaraderie and it was such a homely supper.

  “Yay, Boxty!” Ava cheered.

  “Can we really eat it here, on the couch?” Jack asked.

  “Just as long as you promise to wipe your hands with these and not on the sofa,” Ange said, trying to make her face look stern and forbidding as she handed over a packet of baby wipes.

  “Yay! Thanks Mammy. I love you.” Ava answered, immediately wiping the stern look from Ange’s face.

  “And I love you, too, pet. Now eat up before it goes cold,” Ange said, ruffling her daughter’s soft fluffy blonde curls.

  Ange didn’t know whether it was the traditional comfort food, or the fire or a change in her own mood, but everyone chilled and they started talking about silly stories of the previous Halloween when all of Jim’s and Ange’s family had got together and even the adults had ended up getting drenched as they bobbed for nuts, sweets and coins, a competitive streak driving each along to beat the other. The kids had won out in the end though, as more and more money got thrown into the water, and all proceeds were finally split between Ava, Jack and their cousins, who were much drier than the daft grownups. Jack didn’t really remember it but Ava got a dose of the giggles and soon Ange and Jim were joining in the infectious laughter. Sore behind and mutual anger forgotten, it ended up being one of those cozy family evenings that Ange treasured. And as they reminisced Jim was affectionate and relaxed and very tactile. Just the way she liked him.

  Chapter Eight

  Jim had a list of Dos and Don’ts ready for Ange by the following evening. He wanted to strike while the iron was hot, or indeed the behind, he thought, sniggering to himself. He knew Ange, her submissiveness never lasted long, and if he didn’t deal with it immediately, he’d have to fight for it all over again. His intention was to leave it with her alongside her morning coffee, just before he left for work the following morning.

  Twice weekly maintenance spankings.

  No swearing in front of the children or company

  New working hours, 9-12. Baking and selling to be done it that time. Cleaning up done by 1 pm. Afternoons for family duties.

  No sulking or stropping after a punishment. If you think my call is unfair we can discuss it, but I get final say, and you accept it. Sulks get an additional spanking.

  Refusing or delaying a punishment will double the punishment.

  You must go to bed at the same time as me or earlier, unless there is a prior arrangement not to.

  Children need to come first, no matter what.

  Any act I consider to be dangerous to you or the children is a spankable offence.

  Disobedience or disrespect of my authority in any way will earn a punishment

  The severity and method of punishment will be decided by me and me alone.

  No sa
fe-wording in punishments unless it is a matter of genuine safety. Misuse will earn further punishment.

  I expect to come home to a clean house and home cooked dinner every evening after work.

  Bills are to be paid on the first demand.

  Household finances are to be written up monthly.

  I’ll add and amend rules as I see the necessity.

  Overall, he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. He thought he had everything covered and he knew he should be just within the limited window of her submissiveness. He considered whether he should discuss it all with her that evening, but before he had a chance, Carla arrived over. Carla was Hank’s office manager. She wasn’t going to be ready to return to work the following day, so she said she wanted to go through his contract, and a few other details that would help. It was after nine and the children were already in bed. Jim invited her in and sat on the sofa, leaving the armchair by the fire free for Carla, as Ange went to make some coffee. Carla chose to sit close to him on the sofa as she pulled out an organizational chart. In spite of the shared paperwork, Jim was aware of her close proximity and wondered what Ange would make of the seating arrangements when she returned with the coffee.

  When she returned, Ange selected the armchair rather than the other side of him and didn’t seem in the least perturbed to Jim, so he relaxed, thinking perhaps he was a little oversensitive. An hour and a half later though, he was relieved when Carla announced she was leaving, he was tired after a stressful week at home and he had an early start in the morning, but he was grateful to Carla for taking the time to show him the ropes.