Lily had given herself a migraine. The urgency was gone, appeased, and all that was left was the sick weakness of her body, pushed beyond its endurance.
She couldn't even consider climbing the stairs, just flung herself down on a sofa, groaning, covering her eyes with her palms. Lily was exhausted, but the pain wouldn't let her sleep, and indeed she rose twice in the night, stumbling through the darkness to be sick in the bathroom. She dropped off for a few fitful hours before dawn, but when a beam of sunlight struck her face, she whimpered and awoke again. Groaning, she stumbled to the kitchen, draining a glass of cold water. She saw her phone sitting forgotten on the table, flashing reproachfully, and a little halfhearted investigation found three voice mails from Rob. Of course, he would have called her at bedtime.
Talking to Rob was just about the last thing Lily wanted to do by then, but there was nothing else for it. Now, she knew all too keenly, how angry he would be with her for disobeying him on something so important. But what did that mean? What did it mean if she let herself be punished for following that ache, those spirits, that passion? Wasn't she just repeating her old error, giving away the best of herself? But Lily couldn't consider that properly with angry flashes of light still piercing her skull. She made her way upstairs, the mild exertion making her head pound still more, drew the bedroom curtains, and threw herself on the bed.
She managed to look at the phone long enough to call Rob, and he picked up halfway through the first ring. "Lily? Are you all right, baby? You didn't answer all last night—I tried three times."
"Headache," Lily groaned thickly. "Migraine."
"Are you in bed? Have you called Dr. Mitford?"
"Yeah, I... slept a little on the couch, but I'm in bed now. I haven't called anyone, I just found my phone. I'm sorry I worried you."
"What happened?" Rob asked, and though his voice wasn't stern yet, it wasn't entirely gentle either. "Lily, have you been naughty?"
Lily hissed, for the stress of hearing those words sent another stab of pain through her skull. "I disobeyed," she said slowly. "I... I had to paint. I don't know how long... a long time. I just had to work."
"I see." There was a long silence, then Rob sighed. "We'll talk about this later, since you're in no condition to hear exactly what I think of that. I'll call Dr. Mitford and get him to come out and see you. I want you to stay in bed today, Lily, do you understand? I can't leave here until tomorrow morning, and I need to know you're not going to hurt yourself anymore."
"I understand," Lily said, very softly. "I'm... I'm sorry, Rob. I just had to."
"We'll talk about it later," Rob repeated. "Are you going to obey?"
"Yes, Rob," she said meekly. She was certainly in no condition to disobey.
"All right. Try and sleep now. I'll be home tomorrow." His voice was tight and angry, though very controlled.
"Okay. I'm sorry."
Lily laid the phone aside, her jaw working as she tried not to start crying again. That was the last thing her head needed. How could she make him understand? And what did the return of all the old feelings, the spirit of true artistry, mean for them? Unable to consider it, Lily buried her head in a dark cave of pillows and fell into a troubled, exhausted sleep.
The rest of the day was rather a kaleidoscopic, and Lily couldn't process much of what was happening. Dr. Mitford came, and Laura, too, giving Lily soup and gentle words so she could take some pills. They eased the pain and made her sleepy, and Lily slept heavily all through the night, waking only briefly to drink a little water and then sleep again. When she finally woke again properly, Rob was sitting on the bed beside her, watching her.
"Mmm..." Lily groaned, stretching. She reached out for his hand to hold. "Didn't know you were back. What time is it?"
He let her have his hand and said, slowly, "About noon. I left Billings before dawn. Damn near came back last night, but Dr. Mitford said you were all right, and Laura was looking in on you."
Lily nodded a bit. "She gave me soup and some medicine." She made a face, working her dry mouth. "May I have some water?"
Rob got up and fetched her some fresh water, then when she had drunk it, asked, "How do you feel today?"
"Okay. The migraine is gone. I'm surprised it lasted so long. I haven't had one that bad in ages."
He nodded, then said, "What happened, Lily?" letting his voice shade into sternness. "Why did you decide to disobey me?"
She bit her lip unhappily. "I didn't, exactly—decide to, I mean. I—I didn't think at all. I... oh, you can't understand."
"Well, why don't you try and help me understand, because, baby girl, I feel like wringing your neck right now, and that's not a good feeling."
His tightly controlled anger made Lily shiver, and she said, finally, "I found an old painting. It was... one I'd done. I gave it to Pauline a long, long time ago—I don't even remember why. And when I saw it, it was like someone had punched me. Everything I used to see and feel... everything I let go of because I married a self-absorbed dipshit who pretended to be an artist." Her voice was very bitter. "Someone had to pay the electric bill, and I didn't think it was beneath me to do commercial work. I let him take it all."
"And is that how you feel about me, Lily?" Rob asked quietly.
Lily sat with that question a long time, because she loved him too much to give him an easy answer. It was a relief when, after some deliberation, she knew it was true when she said, "No. But I don't know how to feel about that yet. You make me so happy. I never felt safe before I met you. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'm just doing it again, making myself smaller for someone else."
There was another pause as he processed that, then he finally nodded. "Okay. We'll talk about that, but not yet. Until you tell me something's changed and you don't want me—don't want us anymore, you're under my hand, in my care. That means you've got at least a hard whipping coming, and we can talk about the rest after."
She closed her eyes, tears trembling on her pale lashes. "Now?" she whispered.
"Nope. You seem a lot better, but I want you to rest today. I need to brand those new calves, and I expect you to stay in bed and think about what you've done, little girl. Dr. Mitford will be coming by this afternoon, he said. You're to ask him to punish you."
Lily's eyes flew open. "What?"
"You heard me, young lady. You didn't just disobey me, you disobeyed doctor's orders, and you're to ask him for the punishment you've earned." Rob's gaze was very stern and controlling on her face. "The man's damn near as pissed at you as I am, and he's got every right to give you a hard lesson."
"But...but you'll be—"
"I will. But I guess a little extra reinforcement won't hurt. Obey, Lily." His voice went into a low, controlling growl, like an alpha wolf reprimanding a subordinate pack member.
That took a long time to accept, but finally Lily nodded. "Yes, Rob. I'll... I'll ask him to punish me," she whispered. She had no choice. This was what she had agreed to—to obey him in all things. She'd messed up, and now she'd have to take the consequences.
Chapter Seven
Dr. Mitford shone a little light in Lily's eyes, making her follow it. "How does that feel? Does it hurt?"
"A little uncomfortable, but no pain."
"Good," he nodded, putting the light away. "Well, I'd say you took less damage than you deserve from your little fit. You seem fine now, but no work for at least three days."
"Three days?" Lily yelped. Already her fingers were itching to get back to her special language of shapes and hues that could render the ordinary world extraordinary.
"If you don't rest properly, you'll just be right back where you started. I should think you've had enough of that."
She gave a long sigh, unhappily accepting his recommendation. "I understand. I'll wait."
"Good." He sat down on the bed, not crowding Lily's space, but close and personable. "What happened, Lily?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I just... everything started boiling up inside me, an
d I just had to get it out. Midlife crisis, maybe? I started thinking of everything I used to be, and the hurt of it, that pain.... I don't know how to explain. I had to follow it."
"I hope you got it out," he said, frowning. "I don't think Rob was too pleased. Do I need to look at your backside?"
Lily blushed. "He hasn't punished me for it yet. B-but..."
"But?" Dr. Mitford pressed, raising his eyebrow.
"I'm to ask you to please punish me for disobeying you," she said in a tiny little voice, her eyes fixed on a loose thread on the counterpane.
"I see." His tone was neutral, and he sat with that for a moment. "And what do you think about that?" he asked.
"I deserve it," Lily said finally, after a struggle. "You gave me good advice, and I didn't follow it, and made trouble for everyone. I n-need to learn my lesson."
"You do," he said, sounding a little sterner now. "And I can't pretend I hadn't had in mind to give you a sharp reminder. And now you've asked for it, I hope you'll do me a favor and accept it meekly."
"I promise," she said softly. "I'll be a good girl." Lily finally looked at him with big, appealing eyes, taking some of the same comfort from his sternness that she usually drew from Rob. It wasn't the same. She felt no desire for him at all. But their firm, caring ways were similar, and helped Lily slide down into the meek, obedient child who could merely accept.
He nodded. "All right, then. Have you ever had an enema, young lady?"
Lily shook her head, wide-eyed. "No, sir," she said in a little voice. She hadn't intended the honorific, it just came out, falling naturally from her lips in the space between them.
"You need a hard spanking," he continued. "But I'm going to clean out your little rear, too. It'll be unpleasant, but maybe you'll learn your lesson." Decided, he stood up and led Lily, looking more juvenile than ever in her soft floral pajamas, to the bathroom. He began running water in the sink and opened his bag, taking out an enema kit. He found a little bottle, then added its contents to the enema bag before beginning to fill it with water.
"What's that?" Lily said nervously.
"Cider vinegar. It's good for your insides—though it won't feel it. You're in for a very hard time, young lady. I don't appreciate being called out for an emergency precipitated entirely by your disobedient willfulness." When he was ready, he closed the toilet lid and sat down on it. He pulled a rubber glove on his right hand. "Get your bottoms down and go over my lap."
"Yes, sir." Lily let her pajama bottoms and panties fall to her ankles, and then went over his knee with perfect docility. She was a little scared, but also... excited. It wasn't exactly desire for him—more the frisson of knowing her own helplessness. No choices, only obedience. She was a naughty little girl who had to be looked after and chastised sternly.
"I want you to relax," he ordered, and then Lily felt his finger, slick and coated with lubricant, pressing at her tiny hole. She whimpered a little, but tried to obey, taking in a deep breath to steady herself as he spread the lubricant around inside her. He kept the penetration up for only a moment, then withdrew, replacing his finger with a small tube. "Ready?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered, biting her lip. There was a soft click, and then Lily felt the liquid flowing into her. The sensation was far different than she'd expected. From the way he'd talked about the vinegar, she'd thought it would burn going in, even diluted, but all she felt just then was a rush of heat at the stimulation. She moaned, squirming a little, her breathing speeding up. His left, ungloved hand rested on her back, rubbing gently to help her relax.
After a while, though, Lily was beginning to feel uncomfortably full, and her tummy rumbled with discomfort. The pressure of his knees under her made it worse, and her squirming took on a more distressed quality. "Too much, please..."
He gave a short, sharp laugh. "Young lady, you haven't even taken half of it yet. Settle down."
"But I need to—I'm afraid I'll have an accident!" she begged.
"If you let any of this out before I'm done with you, I'll blister your rear and then start over. Don't test me, Lily," he warned.
Lily whimpered at the fearsome threat, and she reached out to brace herself a little with her hands on the bathtub as the liquid continued to fill and overfill her. Now she understood what he'd meant about her having a hard time. Her bowels clenched and cramped horribly, and she was sweating, breathing heavily as she tried to manage the sensation. "Sorry... good girl, please... no more!"
He smacked her butt hard with his hand. "You should have thought of being a good girl in the first place. You acted like a naughty, willful baby, and that's why you're here. Now you'll take what you have coming."
She cried out, but subsided into nothing more than whimpers and little moans, taking every bit of the horrible medicine until finally he said, "There we are. I'm going to take out the tube, Lily, and you're to hold your dose. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," she whispered miserably. At least that was all of it. She clenched tightly as soon as the tube was out. It was very, very hard to keep control—she needed to use the toilet now.
"Time for your whipping, then." Dr. Mitford pulled a short leather tawse from his bag, showing it to her.
"B-but... need to go!" Lily exclaimed. Surely, he couldn't mean to spank her while she was so full and miserable?
"You will, once you've learned your lesson. Settle down." He gave her maybe half a dozen hard slaps on the backs of her thighs with his hand, and brought the tawse into position. It came down across the tops of her thighs with swish and a loud smack.
"Ah!" Lily cried out loudly, jolting forward at the sharp pain—it was a heavy instrument and seemed to thud straight through to her bones almost.
"Behave. You're going to take your punishment if we have to do this all afternoon," he warned her, bringing it down again, directly beneath the first hit. Then again, then again, as Lily kicked and cried out. He was punishing her hard and fast, taking her straight to the point of maximum discomfort as poor Lily clenched her butt as tight as she could to keep her enema in, and writhed under the harsh treatment.
"Please, please, sorry," she wailed. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, good girl, ow, be such a good girl...." Any hesitation she'd felt in letting herself sink down into an unhappy, noisy little brat during her spanking was quickly stripped away by the burning pain of the tawse. She could almost feel the welts rising on her bare skin as he laid precisely two dozen lines from the very tops of her thighs down to her knees nearly. Some crossed, making her screech and buck even harder, and tears poured down her cheeks as she writhed and sobbed.
When he was done, he laid the tawse aside, and brought his hand down in a hard spank across her welted skin, making her yelp again. "Up," he ordered.
Lily had some trouble obeying while keeping her butt clenched tight, but she finally managed it and stood before him, miserable and meek, her big, tearful eyes pleading for release. But he didn't stand up yet. "Are you going to disobey again?"
"No, sir," Lily promised passionately.
"And you know what you'll get if you're not?"
"Punishment. Cleaned out and whipped," she gasped. "Sir, please, please!"
"What do you say after you've been given the punishment you need, young lady?"
"Thank you," she whimpered, squirming helplessly. It was so hard to hold!
He made her stand there before him for just a moment or two longer, then finally relented, standing up and helping her onto the toilet. Lily yelped as the tops of her thighs hit the toilet seat, but she didn't care, so grateful was she to be able to let go. He didn't give her any privacy, but stood there while she released, scolding her gently. It was horrible.
Lily shivered and groaned as she was entirely cleaned out, and she understood, now, why he'd chosen this punishment. She had never felt so helpless, so miserable, in her life. It made her very meek, even when she was finished and Dr. Mitford insisted on giving her little hole some rough treatment with a washcloth and rubbing some salve into her
abraded skin before he would finally let her pull up her pajamas. The flannel that usually caressed her skin softly felt hot and scratchy against her welted thighs, but she didn't complain at all, as he led her back to the bedroom and tucked her into bed on her tummy. She shivered, snuggling deep under the covers, still rather tearful.
Dr. Mitford gentled then, stroking her sweaty hair back from her forehead. "Go to sleep now, little girl. I imagine you have some more making up to do for Rob before you're all done, but you were very good. I'm going to leave one of Laura's tonics here for you to take at night, and some cream to use on those welts."
"Yes, sir. Thank you," Lily mumbled, falling into an exhausted nap before he even left the room.
She spent the rest of the day in bed, as she'd been ordered, watching the progress of the sun on the wall nervously when she was awake. For once, she wasn't particularly eager for Rob to come home. Her stomach tightened when she heard his old truck pull up the drive. He'd promised her a hard whipping, and she was already so sore! But it wasn't just that. Lily knew in her bones that Rob would never truly hurt her. But what if she had already hurt them both, irreparably?
She listened to him moving around downstairs, then sat up and clicked on the light when she heard his tread on the stairs. Rob came in looking tired and distant. "Hi," she said in a little voice, and her heart felt extra fragile and distressed when she saw he had warmed her up some soup.
"Hi." He avoided her eyes—when had he ever done that before? He sat down on the bed beside her, placing the mug in her hands. "Careful, it's hot."
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