Sweet Town Love
Page 8
Nicely? Seriously, Cara? You're cutting a switch that your boyfriend is going to use to set your backside on fire and "nicely" is how you describe it? Shaking her head and wondering how she'd gotten to this point, she used the shears to snip the branch from the tree. Standing beneath the shade of the tree, she stripped the leaves and tiny protrusions from the branch. The only thing worse than feeling the sting of a switch was having a sharp nub bite into her bottom. Satisfied that her choice would be approved, she was about to return to the house when a voice hailed her.
"Hello, Cara. Isn't it a lovely day?"
A bit startled, she just managed not to shriek as Mrs. Duncan spoke. Keeping the switch behind her back as she turned, she used her other hand to wave. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Duncan. Yes, it's nice out today. I was just, um—"
"Doing a bit of pruning?" Edith Duncan suggested. "It's still a tad bit early to be doing any trimming. A good way to remember is that roses are a symbol of love and shouldn't be pruned until after Valentine's Day."
Realizing she'd waved with the shears in her hand, Cara nodded. "That's right. I forgot. Well, I guess I'll just wait then. Have a good day, Mrs. Duncan."
"You too, dearie." Cara waited until the elderly woman turned and began to hang wet sheets on the line her husband had installed. It was a task not seen anywhere near as often since the invention of driers, but Cara couldn't fault the idea. There was nothing much better than sliding between fresh, crisp sheets that had been dried out in the sunshine. Once back inside, she dropped the shears in the basket on the counter and moved to lay her switch on the ottoman before going down the hall to the master bedroom.
Toeing off her sneakers, Cara peeled down her jeans, folding them neatly before placing them at the foot of the bed. Gooseflesh arose across her skin as she tugged at the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing which didn't even come down enough to cover her backside. Why hadn't she chosen a skirt and blouse or a dress to wear? If she had, Max wouldn't require she remove any of her clothes as he could simply pull up her skirt to uncover his target. The moment she had that thought, she could feel submission flooding through her. She was twenty-three years old and yet standing there in only her t-shirt and panties reminded her that she had been a naughty little girl who was about to get her butt blistered. Since she'd just prepared the implement to be used, it would be very well striped as well.
Sighing, she walked down the hall, the pink socks on her feet not making a sound against the wooden floors. Grateful that the curtains were drawn across the large bay window, she picked up the switch from the ottoman before she made her way to her punishment corner. With a final glance back at the front door, she turned and pressed her nose into the wall. Her hands trembled a bit as she remembered Max's last instruction. Pulling her lacy lavender panties down to rest just beneath the curve of her buttocks, she placed her arms behind her back. As the thin branch came into contact with her bare flesh, she closed her eyes. It didn't have to be switched against her bottom to have her heart pounding. Knowing that the next time the door opened, it would be to admit Max who would not only see her bare bottom peeking from beneath her t-shirt, he'd take the switch from her and then… A soft whimper escaped into the room. God, why had she not listened to her gut two nights ago? Whatever had possessed her to agree to her friends' plans? Every single one of them knew better, and yet, according to Bridget, she was the only one waiting in the corner like a naughty child, waiting for the love of her life to come home and punish her for disobeying his rules.
Chapter 2
Max pulled into the driveway and wasn't surprised to see the curtains were still closed. While Cara normally opened them to allow natural light to fill the rooms, it was apparent she had no intention of having any lookie loos witnessing her punishment. He certainly hadn't planned on spending their first evening together in days dealing with her misbehavior. Climbing out of his truck, he walked across the lawn and up onto the porch that wrapped around his house. He'd much rather they sit and cuddle on the swing that overlooked the backyard. He grinned at thinking of holding her close, her sweet body held tightly in his arms, and her head tucked beneath his chin. Pushing his key into the lock, he frowned. She'd forgotten to lock the door—again. Sighing, he pocketed his keys. If they did make it to that swing, it would be only after his naughty girl had truly learned a much needed lesson.
Opening the door, he didn't have to move his head to see that Cara had obeyed him. Her position in the corner had his heart skipping a beat. God, he'd never grow tired of being greeted by this woman—even though she wasn't exactly greeting him as she normally did. No, instead of racing across the floor and launching herself into his open arms, her hands were behind her back holding a switch against a beautiful naked, plump heart-shaped bottom. She didn't speak or move though he did see the thin branch trembling.
"It's me," he said. Shrugging out of his leather jacket, he hung it on its hook and then said, "Now, why would I, the owner of this house, have to make that statement? Listen very carefully, my naughty girl." When he was sure he had her attention, he reached forward and snapped the lock on the door and then pushed the buttons on the alarm pad, each beep clearly audible in the silent room.
A soft groan came from the corner. When in the corner, she wasn't allowed to speak unless asked a question but he was absolutely positive that she'd instantly understood when the branch twitched.
She gave a small start when he placed his palm against her left buttock and gave it a little squeeze before giving it a single swat that sounded like a gunshot and had her squealing. "Shh, no noise allowed when in your naughty girl corner." Lifting his hand again, he gave her right buttock its own squeeze and then its matching handprint with another swat. "How many times have I spanked this bottom for forgetting to lock the door and set the alarm?"
"Too… too many. I just had the groceries… ow!"
"I didn’t ask for an explanation as we both know there is not one that I will accept. Your excuses will do absolutely no good if some stranger breezes in and decides to do you harm, will they?"
"No."
"No, what?"
"I meant no, sir."
He placed his fingers around the switch and gave it a little tug. She released it to him and he swished it through the air, seeing her tense at the distinct whirring sound. "Step back, brace your hands on the wall and stick your bottom out."
He had no doubt that she expected to feel the switch bite into her bottom but that punishment had been planned for a different infraction. For forgetting to lock the door yet again, she'd first feel his hand. Once she had obeyed and had her bottom pushed out, he tucked the switch beneath his arm before placing a hand at her waist. "This is not taking place of your punishment. It is simply an addition you earned for disregarding the safety of the most important person on this earth."
Sharp pops echoed as his hand began to pepper against her bottom. Her feet began to dance as her bottom began to turn pink and she attempted to tuck her hips in. "Be still, and push your bottom out properly," he said, giving her an extra hard swat right in the center of her cheeks. "We are not done addressing your failure to keep the love of my life safe." She whimpered but obeyed, lifting her flushed nether cheeks higher. Her yips became squeals which morphed into yelps as he continued her spanking. Both globes were a rosy pink when he released her waist.
"Why are you supposed to lock the door, Cara?"
"To keep me safe, sir."
"That's correct. All right. Nose pressed into the corner and give that some thought."
She immediately straightened and moved forward until the tip of her nose touched the wall again.
Max walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water. Pulling one from the drawer in the refrigerator, he unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to his mouth. Shaking his head, he took a few sips and recapped the bottle, setting it on the counter. Evidently she was nothing if not consistent as he saw that the back door was also unlocked. Shaking his head, he called out for her to listen and fli
pped the bolt. Plucking a wooden spoon from the crock of cooking utensils, he returned to the living room.
"Did you hear that?" he asked, pleased to see that her bottom hadn't dropped a centimeter.
"No… no, sir," she said softly.
"Do you care to guess what I wanted you to hear?"
"I-I… the lock on the back door?" she said, a soft moan finishing her question.
"Exactly," Max said. "Cara, it doesn't take but a second to flip a lock. It takes another to reset the alarm. You have to disarm it coming in so having to rearm it again should be a no brainer—"
"I’m sorry, Max, ow!"
"Did I ask you a question?" he asked, his palm still pressed against the buttock he'd just spanked.
"No, sir."
"Forgetting one door earned you a hand spanking, forgetting another earns you a round with the spoon. Perhaps that will remind you that someone cares about your safety even if you wish to ignore it. Step back and grab your ankles. I want your bottom pointed up at the ceiling."
Her pink bottom, framed by the lavender panties resting in her sit spot was just gorgeous. "You'll count each one and promise that you'll remember to lock the doors. Ready?"
"Ye-yes, sir."
Placing his palm on the small of her back, he ran the bowl of the spoon over her bottom before lifting it. Its crack against her buttock was followed by her squeal and her shout. "One—I promise to lock the doors!"
Crack… "Two! I promise to lock the doors."
Crack… "Max, please…"
"The stroke won't count unless you count it, honey."
"Three. I promise to lock the doors."
By the sixth stroke, her bottom was wagging, her counts and her promise given with a bit of a stutter and yet she never once attempted to step out of position, shift her feet, or reach back to protect her rear.
"Keep your bottom still. Continue your count but change your promise to remember to set the alarm."
Crack… "Seven. I promise to set the alarm. Please… it hurts!"
"Are you being spanked?"
She hesitated as if wondering if he'd asked a trick question, but gave a little nod and said, "Yes, sir."
"And is a spanking usually given for pleasure?"
His love sighed and he couldn't help but smile. "No, sir."
"Why do you get spanked?"
"Because you are punishing me for making bad choices, sir."
"Correct and tell me why it would be a rather fruitless endeavor if the spanking didn't hurt."
"Because I wouldn't learn a lesson."
"Let's continue. Do you remember what you are to be learning?"
"Yes, sir."
Crack… "Ei-eight. I promise to set the alarm."
As he snapped the spoon against her skin for the last time, the white oval flaring for a moment before turning red, she wailed, "Twelve. I promise never to forget to lock the doors and set the alarm ever again!"
"I hope you remember that," Max said, running his palm across her punished cheeks. "But, know this. I will spank you every single time you put yourself in danger. I love you far too much to allow your to let your safety slide. Understand?"
"Ye-yes, sir. I'm really sorry."
"I know you are, baby." He gave her bottom a gentle pat and stepped back. "Okay, back in the corner. We'll take care of the remainder of your punishment in a few minutes."
He watched as she stood, ready to assist if she appeared dizzy from being bent over. His assistance wasn't needed as she stepped to the wall, the tip of her nose buried into the juncture of the corner. Seeing a hand fluttering, he picked up the switch he'd laid aside and drew her hand back. Pressing it into her palm, he closed her fingers around it. "That should keep you from rubbing your bottom. Be ready to make your confession when I get back, okay?"
"Okay… I mean, yes, sir."
Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, he stepped away from her. God, he adored this woman and yet he hadn't lied. He'd not hesitate to spank her if she didn't follow the rules they'd agreed on. It would kill him if something happened to her that could have been prevented with nothing more than a locked door and a set alarm. Working two forty-eight hour shifts and having to be away at night was only doable if he believed he'd provided the best possible things to keep her safe. If it took a hundred spankings, well, wooden spoons were cheap.
After replacing the spoon and finishing his bottle of water, he glanced at the clock. He knew he needed to finish her punishment if she were going to have any time to pull herself together before class. But he also wanted to make sure he separated the spanking he'd given her for her forgetting to lock the doors from the one he'd been planning on delivering for the past few days. Each needed to be distinct from the other. The question of skipping tonight's class was moot. No, they'd made a commitment. Granted, it would be a little uncomfortable for his naughty girl tonight, but he was also positive she'd enjoy the class once she settled a bit.
Returning to the living room, he pulled the ottoman out a bit further from the rest of the furniture and sat down. Looking at her in the corner, he thought back to how they'd come to this place in their relationship.
After they'd been dating for six months, and after an argument about her tending to act without thinking, he'd sat her down and talked to her about domestic discipline. Her cheeks had flushed and her mouth had dropped open when he explained that he was a firm believer that a spanking was far preferable to yelling, arguing, or holding in resentful feelings for several days.
"You want to spank me?"
"No, but I will spank you when I believe you've earned one."
"But… but I'm not some child, and besides, won't that hurt?"
He'd taken her hands in his and given them a squeeze. "Yes, it will hurt, but only for a while. Once it is over, it's over. You would be forgiven, and, Cara, I promise that you will feel far better."
She'd snorted. "I don't see how! Besides, this all sounds a bit one-sided if you ask me. Unless you're saying I get to spank you when I decide to?"
"No, honey. I would be the only one doing the spanking." She'd attempted to pull her hands from his but he'd gripped them tighter. "I want to ask you a question, and I want you to give it some thought before you answer. Will you do that for me?"
"Sure."
Just that instant response again told him how impulsive his girl was, but he'd continued. "Let me give you an example. We just spent the better part of a day arguing and rehashing the fact that you received a speeding ticket… another speeding ticket." When her mouth opened, he'd released one of her hands to press a finger against her lips. "Please, let me finish?" She'd rolled her eyes but nodded.
"Thank you. You gave me excuse after excuse as to why you were speeding, but, Cara, they were basically the same excuses you gave me the last time. We discussed that ticket and you promised to be more responsible, and yet, not a month later you got another ticket… for driving even faster. Babe, you mean the world to me and the thought of you being hurt or possibly killed in some car accident that could have been avoided if you'd obeyed the traffic laws, makes my heart hurt. What I'm saying is that discussing, arguing, repeating the same lecture has done nothing to improve your behavior. So, yes, I believe that if I had given you a spanking after that first ticket, you would have been less likely to speed again. Would it have hurt? Yes. Would it have hurt as much as being laid up in the hospital with serious injuries? No. Your bottom would hurt for a little while, but, Cara, my heart would hurt for the rest of my life if I lost you."
Her expression had begun to change from belligerent to thoughtful halfway through his example. With his last sentence, her lower lip had begun to tremble.
"The question I wanted you to consider is this. I'd like to try domestic discipline in our relationship. It works for my parents, works for my brother—"
"Wait! You're saying Tony spanks Bridget?"
"Yes."
"And Dave… Jennifer?"
Max smiled and nodded.
&nb
sp; "But… she's your little sister!"
"Honey, she was a Wright first and grew up in a home that had strict rules and consequences when they were broken. It didn't surprise any of us that she fell in love with a man who would also practice domestic discipline."
"Other people would know you… you spank me?" The shock was back on her face.
"Not necessarily. I know about my parents and siblings because, well, because they are family. I know of other couples because they've shared the information. I believe you might be very surprised to discover how many couples practice the dynamic."
"I'd never tell anyone! I'd be too embarrassed!"
He'd not failed to notice that she hadn't said she'd never allow him to spank her… just that she wouldn't tell anyone. He'd leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Sweetheart, to be honest, I don't believe it is anything to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Many people find it helps to have somebody to share their feelings with but that would be your choice." He'd given her a few moments to consider what he'd discussed and then asked her the question he needed answered.
"Do you believe you can give it a try?"
He'd been proud when she hadn't instantly answered, instead, sitting quietly and thinking. He'd managed not to grin when she'd squirmed a bit as if imagining herself sitting on a tender bottom. Finally, she'd lifted her eyes to his and answered.