A Mouse in His Pocket

by Patricia Green

  "Buck... I made a huge mistake. I should have realized right away that Mary was lying. She's been nasty about our relationship all along, but I didn't realize...I'm afraid she's screwed up inside."

  He'd pretty much already come to the conclusion that Mary was a piece of work. Jenny wasn't telling him anything he hadn't already figured out. "Okay."

  She paused, looking down at her feet.

  "Is there more?"

  Her gaze went to his and her voice took on a note of desperation. "I want to make things right between us, Buck. I don't want us to break up. I love you. Please accept my apology."

  She looked tortured, and his heart went out to her. Hurt from the night before hadn't left him, but he believed that she regretted her behavior.

  "Apology accepted."

  "Buck, I..." She bit her lower lip, then went on. "I deserve to be punished. I deserve a spanking."

  That was a surprise. "Are you asking me to spank you, Jenny?"

  "Yes. Yes, even if we can't get back together. I deserve it. I need it."

  Spanking was a kind of intimacy. He couldn't do it and not feel close to her afterward. And if he spanked her, it would have to be severe. If he was going to forgive her--and he knew that's where it would lead--he had to make sure he could let go of his resentment, and that she'd never hurt him that way again.

  "Alright." He eyed her coat. "You know what to do. I'll be right back."

  In his bedroom, in a drawer, was a riding crop. It had come from a woman he'd known a few years prior. The relationship was long over, but the riding crop remained. It was a harsh implement, but would get the point across unmistakably.

  When he came back out, she was standing in front of his comfy chair, her lower half bare. He couldn't help but be stirred by the sight of her. He was a man and wasn't about to deny that to himself. But there was an innocence about Jenny that overrode his instinct to possess in a sexual way. He wanted to nurture and protect her. He wanted her to come to him with hurts and triumphs, and be more to him than a body.

  She eyed the riding crop sitting across his lap, and her eyes closed tight for a moment. Opened again, there were tears, but they didn't fall down her cheeks. She looked resigned. When she took a step away from his chair, giving him room to climb in, he shook his head.

  "No. This time, I want you over the arm of the chair. Get a pillow and put your face on it, in the seat of the chair, with your belly over the arm."

  She moved around the room and lay across the chair as he'd instructed. "Like this?"

  "Yeah." He rolled over to her and gave her a chance to back out. He was going to give her what she deserved, but he wanted to make sure she understood what that meant. "I don't plan to let up on this, Jenny. You really need to think first in the future."

  Nodding, she turned her face toward him. "I know. I know it'll be bad. But I was bad. I was stupid and didn't think things through. I know you love me--loved me--but I didn't think about what that meant. And I treated you with total disrespect. I know you're too smart, and too good a man to do something like that. I know it." She closed her eyes. "I deserve whatever you think."

  Without a word, he swung the crop, flicking his wrist. She flinched and a red mark appeared on her white behind. He flicked a few more times and she flinched more. On the fifth stroke, the first welt appeared and she cried out softly.

  He concentrated on her buttocks for a time, applying the strokes at varying intervals. He didn't want her to begin to anticipate them. The red marks and welts accumulated, and he'd been over the area twice, so he moved the crop down her thighs, reserving the juncture of thigh and bottom for last.

  She was crying now, the sounds muffled in the pillow. He could hear her sobs and see the tension in her body as she tried to shrink from the pain.

  Her thighs reddened, the marks there swollen and harsh. After thirty lashes to her thighs, he moved the crop to the most tender part of her butt, the place where thigh met bottom. She moaned and screamed as he spanked her with the crop in that tender area.

  When she began to beg, he knew they were nearing the end of the punishment. He punctuated his reminders with whacks. "Do you want me to forgive you?"

  "Y-yes!"

  It was hard to understand her, but he could. "Do you want us to get back together?"

  "Yes, p-please! Please!"

  "Are you going to treat me with this kind of disrespect again?"

  "Oh God!" She cringed at the sound of the crop whistling. "No! No, I won't. I love you, Buck! I won't forget."

  "Don't forget. I won't punish you for this again. We'll just go our separate ways. Permanently."

  "I'm sorry! I don't want that--I don't ever want that!"

  He spanked her a few more times, the silence broken by the crop clapping on her red, swollen bottom. The marks were deep, but he'd not done her any real harm. She'd be sore for a few days, a reminder to her not to make the same mistake again.

  Buck realized that she'd make other mistakes in the future, probably mistakes leading to punishment, but he wasn't so arrogant as to believe that he was unable to make mistakes himself. Although he would not receive external punishment--he was not a submissive man in any way--his internal punishment and recriminations were enough to keep him from erring the same way over and over again.

  He put the crop down and waited for her sobs to subside before telling her to move out of the chair. She stood, shaky, her face as red as her bottom, her eye makeup smudged, a pitiful and dejected look on her face. Buck had been harsh, but he knew it had been appropriate. She deserved to be physically miserable for a time, but she'd feel better about herself emotionally, knowing that she'd been punished and it was over.

  After levering himself into the chair, he patted his lap and then opened his arms to her. She was quick to accept his hug, even while she was extremely ginger about sitting on her fanny.

  The warmth of her breath against his chest was soothing. Muscles he hadn't realized were tense began to loosen.

  "I'm sorry, Buck. Am I forgiven now?"

  "Yeah, I've forgiven you. Have you?"

  "I'm working at it. This helps."

  He ran a hand through the fine silk of her hair. "I'm glad, little mouse. I love you."

  * * *

  "Merry Christmas!" Buck's family chorused as she came into their home the next morning. Cousins, friends and their kids were included in the noisy festivities, and a dog raced around, scattering crumpled wrapping paper.

  Buck was in his element, surrounded by family and friends. It made Jenny feel special to be included in their gathering. The bruises on her butt were the smallest price to pay for being a part of his life. And they reminded her that she needed--wanted--to be more mindful of her behavior in the future, lest she lose all of this out of stupidity.

  The conversations were lively, including some good-natured arguments about politics. And there were a lot of "thank God" exclamations over the return of the two missing UNLV students, unharmed. Turned out they had gotten high and took an unscheduled trip to Mexico. After a few days in Cancun, they'd returned to their senses and come back home.

  After Christmas dinner, Buck offered to take her to another holiday display he'd discovered, tucked away on a cul-de-sac nearby on the reservation. They bundled up and drove for a few minutes.

  The display was at a tiny neighborhood park. As they got out of the SUV, Jenny was touched by the tender care the residents had taken to make their park a special part of their Christmas celebration. There were lights, plastic snowmen, glitter snowflakes hanging from the tree branches. And in the middle, right in the heart of the little square, was a Christmas tree. Lights shone and flickered all over it, and children's pipe-cleaner ornaments were sprinkled though the branches.

  "It's beautiful, Buck. Thank you for bringing me here."

  He grinned. "I'm glad you like it." Taking her hand, he put a box in its palm. "I have a present for you. Merry Christmas."

  "Buck..." She opened the little box, and there o
n the black velvet was a diamond engagement ring--a sparkling stone flanked by smaller emeralds. She stared in amazement. "Oh my goodness..."

  "The emeralds are the same color as your eyes were when I first met you."

  Jenny had never been so ecstatic in her life. She couldn't think of words to say.

  "Will you marry me, little mouse?"

  "Oh, yes!" She grabbed him and held him tight, raining kisses all over his face, loving the broad smile there, the bright shine of his eyes, his hair in her hands. She kissed him hungrily.

  He returned her ardor, then pulled back a bit. "Let's save some of that for the wedding night. If we get too busy now...I don't think I'll want to stop."

  She wanted to give him that part of her. The part she'd saved for the right person at the right time and the right circumstances. But this was not the place.

  "With that in mind, mouse, will you mind if we get hitched in Las Vegas? You probably want a big wedding and all..."

  She had never given much thought to wedding cakes and bridal gowns. "When?"

  "New Year's Eve?"

  "Yes! What a perfect way to begin the year--together."

  He took her hands and kissed her knuckles. "Together. You'll be like a mouse in my pocket, sweetheart. Close to my heart all the time."

  The End

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  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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