Mischief Under The Mistletoe

by Maren Smith

  The silence stretched between them until she asked, "Will you hold me first?"

  He shook his head. "Not before, but I will cuddle and kiss all you want afterward."

  "I'm sorry," she sobbed, and Jim felt his resolve start to crumble, so he turned away. He loved her with all his heart, and didn't enjoy seeing her in pain or unhappy, but if he didn't follow through on his promises, she'd stop believing him. And he couldn't allow that.

  "Go to the bedroom and prepare yourself, Kelly. I will join you shortly." Turning he strode down the hall to his office.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JIM SAT BEHIND HIS desk to allow Kelly time to compose herself. Even though it wasn't what she expected, or he had originally intended, five stripes from the cane wasn't an onerous punishment. She would undoubtedly still feel some heat from her backside tomorrow, but the discomfort shouldn't interfere with anything she wanted to do during the day. As for that, he didn't expect it would hinder her pleasure this evening, either.

  Kelly hadn't lost respect for him, exactly, but she had begun to anticipate how he would react to a given situation and even accepted his displeasure to a certain point. The fact that she worried earlier about losing his trust if she went against his wishes proved she wasn't entirely at ease about disappointing him. But she assumed he would remain with their drawn lines and keep to the same colors he usually used. He meant to disabuse her of those assumptions tonight.

  He had agreed to drawing up a penalty chart for her peace of mind, and he didn't object to adhering to it. What he did object to, however, was her unfounded conviction that he would never deviate in his approach. Suppositions like those bred only boredom and complacency. Routines had their place, as did limitations and safewords, but as her Dom, Jim needed to make certain his actions weren't so predictable Kelly grew nonchalant about their activities. He wanted her to feel safe and protected when they were together, but never blasé about his intentions.

  When he'd given her enough time to calm down, he collected the cane from the closet he kept locked in his office and strode to the bedroom. Kelly stood beside the bed with her arms wrapped around her front. She had put on a robe in violation of his long-standing instructions that she strip naked for a punishment. Though he understood it was uncertainty, rather than defiance, that caused her to cover herself.

  "You're wearing too many clothes," he commented, placing the twenty-four-inch Delrin rod on the mattress.

  "I'm not sure I can go through with this."

  "Your choice." His gaze remained fixed on her troubled expression as he sat on the edge of their bed.

  "Will I still need to sleep in the guest room?"

  "You're my wife, and when we married you vowed to obey me. Disobedience to your husband and Dom carries a penalty. So, yes."

  "For how long?"

  "Until I determine you're forgiven." When she opened her mouth, he added, "And, no. "I won't be pressed into puttin' a time limit on that."

  She nodded, then lowered her arms so her cute little baby bump separated the sides of her robe. She wore nothing beneath the light silk covering, but when she noticed where his focus had shifted, she promptly drew the garment closed again.

  He stood and clasped her fingers in his. "No. Don't cover yourself. You're carrying our child and I find your figure even more beautiful now, if that's possible."

  "I'm getting fat," she protested, keeping her head down.

  "Kelly, look at me." When she reluctantly met his gaze, he said, "You're gorgeous, and I love you."

  "But you still intend to cane me," she pointed out with a trace of asperity

  "Because sometimes you need a reminder that ignoring rules carries consequences."

  When he released her hands, she ran them over her gently swelling belly and a wave of paternal protectiveness flowed through Jim, but he kept his arms at his sides. For Kelly's well-being if nothing else, he needed to remain firm in his purpose. The doctor had assured them they could continue their kinky activities as long as Jim was careful, and he was careful with Kelly even when she wasn't pregnant, so that wasn't a concern. This wouldn't be a pleasurable experience for her by any means, but he'd had enough practice to know precisely where to strike and how hard.

  Kelly had told him often enough how much she hated being relegated to the guest bedroom, and as much as he preferred she sleep by his side, he would need to insist if she didn't submit, though he suspected neither of them would get much rest. In fact, he doubted she would last more than an hour apart from him, even if she chose that alternative.

  "I don't want to go back in there," she admitted.

  "And I'd prefer you stayed with me, but there are conditions for that, Kelly."

  Her head lowered. "I know." As tears streamed down her cheeks, the robe dropped to the floor. "How do you want me positioned?"

  Leaning over, he grabbed two of the pillows near the headboard. Rolling the first into a bolster, he laid it at the edge of the bed. "Bend over this so your belly rests on the other side of it. I'll place another just beneath your breasts.

  She lay down as he directed, making no further appeal for clemency despite her trembling.

  Once she was properly positioned and as comfortable as she could be in her situation, he ran a hand along the length of her spine. She shivered slightly, but didn't move.

  "Good girl," he praised. "Now, tell me why you are here."

  She hesitated long enough that he didn't think she'd answer, when she murmured, "Because I disobeyed you by drinking champagne."

  "Correct. And why did you decide to disobey me?"

  "Because it was New Years, and I didn't think a small sip would hurt me or the baby."

  "Was that your decision to make?"

  "I thought it was, but I guess not," she sniffed.

  Since she couldn't see his face, Jim allowed a smile to curve his lips even as he kept his voice stern. "Trust me. It wasn't." When she didn't argue, he continued, "All right. Five whacks. I want you to count each one aloud, please. I will not deliver the next one until you've called out the previous stroke. If I sense you are deliberately holding back in an effort to delay your punishment. I will add strokes. Any questions?"

  "No, Sir." Her answer emerged muffled because she'd pressed her face into the comforter. Normally, he wouldn't allow that, but he expected this would be a short session, so she shouldn't suffer even if she held her breath throughout her punishment. All the same he gave her a warning. "Make sure I can hear you, Kelly. You don't want me to start addin' strokes."

  "No, Sir," she agreed without hesitation.

  "Since you have no further comments, I will begin." He drew his arm back about a foot, then brought down the thin plastic rod with a sold thwack.

  A LINE OF FIRE ERUPTED on Kelly's backside and she jerked up. "Ow!" She'd forgotten just how painful the cane could be. If Jim hadn't steadied her with a hand on the small of her back, she would have leapt off the bed in protest.

  "Number," Jim reminded.

  "One," Kelly echoed without delay. This was going to be worse than she thought, and she'd known what she was in for. Her backside, among other places, had grown tenderer with her pregnancy.

  "Good." The moment the word was spoken a second searing red-hot sting flamed directly below the first and Kelly kicked out one leg as she cried, "Shit. That hurts."

  "Language. Swear again and I'll add a stroke."

  She leaned up on her elbows and glared at him. "This is not level one discipline, Sir."

  "Again. Not your decision. Number."

  "Two," she spat, beginning to resent his insistence on a correction that she felt far outweighed her offense. And the third line had her kicking out both legs in protest. "No more. Please. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

  "And that's why we're here now. Number."

  "Can't we stop at three? A level one punishment with a cane is much harsher than usual. It's not right."

  When he ran his finger over the first mark he'd left, she winced and hisse
d with discomfort.

  "Is it right for you to ignore your husband or Dom's advice?"

  "No, Sir," she replied with true regret. He had warned her, but she had no idea a small glass of bubbly would lead to this.

  "You have only two more to go, so let's finish. Number."

  "Three."

  Kelly jerked, then cried out in pain. Four was lower than the other three, which meant five would strike the area where she was most sensitive. She hated spanks on her sit spot at the best of times, but a cane stripe would be even more miserable to bear. However, unless she was about to be physically ill, Jim wouldn't grant her a reprieve.

  Wishing it was already over as tears flowed from her eyes, Kelly tensed and called, "Four."

  The last stroke landed with all the subtlety of a whip. A white-hot zap of pain coursed through her entire body and she screamed. Jim promptly drew her up into his arms and she sobbed against him. "I'm sorry."

  "Hush. I know, but I couldn't have hurt you that badly. What's wrong?"

  "My butt's on fire," she complained, clinging to him.

  Even the light rubbing from his hand stung as it soothed at the same time. He placed kisses on her head as he rocked and comforted her until the agony subsided to a warm ache.

  As her discomfort eased, her crying was reduced to little hitches of breath. "That was much worse than I thought it would be."

  "So I gathered. Your curvaceous backside appears to be far more sensitive now. And that's saying something."

  She pulled away to look up at him. "So, how do you intend to ease this terrible discomfort you caused me?"

  Giving her nose a warning tap, he replied, "Naughty little girls don’t deserve rewards."

  "But you promised..."

  JIM REGARDED HIS MISCHIEVOUS wife with a frown. "I guess I did at that, and a gentleman never welches on a promise." With that he lifted her up and carried her back to the bed where he laid her as gently as possible on her back. Though she let out a small hiss, she still raised her arms for a kiss.

  Bending down, Jim lightly teased her lips with his until she grabbed his shoulders to deepen their embrace. He didn't mind her occasionally showing a little aggression in bed. In fact, he rather enjoyed it when she took the initiative, as long as she didn't make a habit of it. He preferred to be the one in control, but his ego wasn't so large he couldn't allow her freedom of expression. And he wasn't one to inhibit a woman's pleasure.

  When she eased her grip on his neck, he began placing tiny kisses and bites along an imaginary line that traversed down her front.

  Kelly giggled, but when her hips wiggled she let out a hiss of pain.

  "A reminder that's it's always best to do as your loving husband and Dom says. Now part those pearly thighs for me while I go treasure hunting with my tongue.

  Kelly eagerly complied. She was so ready for him a mere touch had her coming. Not as copiously as she sometimes did, but a small gush of fluid emerged with her release, which he swallowed without difficulty. He liked her taste. An earthy mix of strawberries and woman.

  When she reached for him again, he shook his head and frowned. "Nope. You had your fun. Now, lock those naughty hands behind your head. You aren't in charge. Got it?"

  "Yes, Sir," she murmured, obediently doing as he asked.

  Jim quickly stripped out of his clothes and stretched out on top of her. "Now, we're gonna take this slow and easy. This ain't a race."

  "I realize that, but—"

  "No, Kelly. Though the caning was short, it took a lot out of you, and you've already been goin' non-stop for the past few days. I'll make sure you get where you wanna go, but we're doin' it at my pace, not yours."

  She scrunched her nose up, but didn't argue, so he eased into her. She was still wet from their earlier play, so his entry was smooth. As he started to build up a rhythm, she gripped his hips and thrust against him, so he stopped.

  "What did I say?"

  "I can't move?" The frustration in her voice was clear.

  "You can move, but I want you to match my thrusts, not race 'em. And where are your hands supposed to be?"

  "But—"

  "This isn't open for debate, wife. Who is master in the bedroom?"

  "You are," she answered sulkily.

  "Damned straight. Now, do we do this my way, or do we stop for the night and go to bed?"

  "I'm not sleepy."

  "Not what I asked."

  "Your way," she conceded after a moment.

  "Good girl. I'm drivin', so hands behind your head, now."

  "Yes, Sir," she obeyed, but her tone and movements suggested she wasn't happy about it. Even though he understood her impatience, she tended to over-extend herself, so he tightened his hold and reined his filly in. He'd make sure she wasn't left wanting by the ride.

  THE NEXT DAY, KELLY waited until early afternoon before she called Tiffany. "How are you?"

  "Other than a splitting headache and a sore butt, perfect. I don't understand it. I didn't have nearly enough to cause this much misery."

  Chuckling, Kelly said, "Blame it on hormones. You never were a big drinker, but it has been a while since you had any alcohol. Your system must have taken exception to your choice."

  "I can't be sure about my system, but my husband certainly did," Tiffany admitted with a rueful sigh.

  "Yeah. Even though Jim knew, or at least suspected I was going to drink, he still made it clear that disobedience had its price. I hadn't expected him to be so firm about it, though."

  "I hate to ask, but what did he do?"

  "I got the cane," Kelly confessed with her own sense of ruefulness.

  "He caned you? For a small glass of champagne, your husband took a cane to you?"

  Wincing at the sharp accusation in Tiffany's tone, Kelly admitted, "I don't think it was the champagne as much as it was the fact I was willing to risk the consequences of disobedience to do what I wished. He warned me if I drank champagne I would get punished, but I'd assumed it would be a hand spanking over his knee and I wanted to party last night. He wanted me to understand that predicting his actions carried penalties of its own."

  "I really don't like Jim at times. He's overly strict and mean."

  Kelly grinned. "Oh, he made up for it afterward."

  "I don't care if he took you to the moon afterward, you didn't deserve to be caned for a small glass of sparkling wine."

  Though Kelly privately agreed, there was little point in belaboring what happened now, so she changed the subject. "What did Kyle do?"

  "Oh, I got a twenty-minute lecture on drinking while pregnant during the drive home, fifteen minutes corner time once we got home, and then five minutes over his knee after he gave me yet another lecture on responsibility.

  "He did celebrate the new year with you afterward though, right?"

  "Kyle can be a real pill sometimes. He fully intended to punish us both, but I managed to change his mind. However, I'm getting absolutely no sympathy today for my discomforts. According to him, I earned every pain I'm suffering for my behavior last night. Was I truly that bad?"

  "You don't remember?"

  "I remember feeling lightheaded and giddy and laughing a lot, while thinking both men were being spoil sports about our little party, but not much else."

  "Well, you told us the story about Kyle's pink underwear."

  "Yeah, I sort of recall that, too. He gets so touchy sometimes."

  "Dominant men tend to be that way when you harm their macho image. And pink underwear definitely injured Kyle's machismo."

  Tiffany laughed then groaned. "I'm sorry Jim was so strict with you."

  "I suppose I needed a reminder that it's not healthy for me to take his punishments for granted. Next time, I'll be sure he spells out the consequences of my disobedience before I plunge ahead. Surprises like that aren't fun."

  "But you're okay, right? He didn't honestly hurt you, did he?"

  "Jim's an expert, so he knows what he's doing. It stung like the devil while he was lay
ing into me, but other than some slight soreness today it's a forgotten memory."

  "I still think your husband is a poopy-head."

  Kelly grinned. "So you told him last night."

  "I did, didn't I?" Tiffany's chuckle was a half moan. "I guess I'm not as scared of him as I thought. Though, I'm not sure I would have been so brave if Kyle hadn't been with me. Jim Evans can be a very scary Dom when he wants to be."

  "You got that right. Well, I called to make sure you survived the night."

  "I wasn't the one in danger of being killed," Tiffany groused. "Kyle is more like a scolding parent than a cane-wielding dominant."

  "True. I didn't receive any lectures for my crime, but I did have to count the strokes aloud."

  "How many?"

  "Only five, except they seemed like much more last night." Kelly glanced up to find her smiling husband standing at the door. "Oops. I've been caught tattling. I'd best hang up now. Take care, Tiffany."

  "You, too."

  As Kelly put the phone down, she said, "I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

  "Uh huh."

  "It's nice to have someone to trade stories with. Someone who offers sympathy without judgement."

  "I understand. Lunch is ready. So, I suggest you get your only slightly sore butt into the kitchen now, and I'll do a proper examination of it after we eat."

  Kelly rose with a grin. Jim's examinations could be a lot of fun, when he chose to make them enjoyable."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE NEXT DAY, KELLY was fondly remembering the fun she'd had this past week as she stood at their living room window marveling at how such small crystal flakes could turn their backyard into a winter wonderland. With their lawn bathed in the frosty white glow of their floodlights, she smiled at how the wind blew the snow into lacy waves of white uneven drifts and pressed her forehead against the icy windowpane. Christmas and New Years were over, and they'd returned to their normal day-to-day routines.