by Maggie Ryan
“Did Mark spank you?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” she hissed back with a glare.
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Dan said, shaking his head. “Did you deserve it?”
Did she? Probably, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. And it wouldn’t be the last one either. She was sure of that. There was no way she could have an extended relationship with Mark without screwing up, and if she were thinking about long term commitment, marriage to be specific, she was sure he would take his role as husband, provider and disciplinarian to heart. Not to mention the big fat lie she already had hanging over her head.
Well, if they called it quits, he’d never have to know. They could do their thing at the festival and part friends. Granted, she would be walking away from the most wonderful man she’d ever met, not counting his one small flaw of thinking it was his duty to reprimand her for every little thing. Not every little thing, her conscience insisted. There were plenty of times she’d deliberately pushed him to see what he would do and he’d given her a warning look and let it go. No, it was her manipulation and lying that finally made him take her in hand.
“Did you?” Dan demanded, obviously not willing to let her get away without answering.
“I guess I did,” Charlie admitted. Her cheeks flamed. “But I didn’t give him permission.”
Dan laughed. “If you think a man like Mark would ask permission, you don’t know him as well as I thought. He’ll always do what he thinks is right. I guess I gave you credit for being smarter than you are, Charlie, and I certainly didn’t think you were the kind of woman who would wimp out on a challenge. Guess that’s why you never made it farther than State, huh?”
Charlie gasped, but Dan was already walking away. That was a low blow. She hadn’t wimped out, she hadn’t! It was an injury that ruined things for her, at least that’s what she’d always told herself, even though a tiny part of her wondered about it to this day. Could she have gone on? Was it the injury or was it fear? Fear that she wasn’t quite good enough, just like the fear that settled in the pit of her stomach now. She wasn’t quite good enough for Mark either, and she now knew how serious he was about improving bad behavior and his methods for doing so.
Packing up her laptop, she headed out of the office. The case she was covering at the county courthouse was sure to last until the end of the week, at least. Even though it was boring as hell, it was better than sitting around second guessing herself as she wrote articles about bake sales, charity auctions and upcoming nuptials.
She found skating with Mark had rekindled her love of the ice and each evening after work she returned to Smith’s pond alone. Listening to her music on her Bluetooth, Charlie tried to escape the sadness that gripped her soul.
Mark still called her, but their conversations were stilted. There was a sad tone of resignation in his voice and she knew after the festival she would not see him again, at least not on a personal level.
The article she’d been working on sold to the first magazine she submitted it to and she’d been offered a job as a regular contributor. So far she hadn’t accepted. While she could work from home for a while, if she ever wanted to make it to the big time she would have to relocate to New York City, Chicago or Los Angeles. It was not an appealing prospect. At heart Charlie was a small town girl with big dreams. Given the choice of major journalistic fame or becoming Mark’s wife, she knew which she would choose. The problem remained; she wasn’t all that good at following the rules. The qualities that made her a good reporter, stubbornness and persistence, would make her a poor wife.
The morning of the Winter Festival dawned bright and crisp, a perfect winter’s day for outside fun. The phone call from Martha Clarkson threw a pall over it very quickly.
“Charlene, it’s Martha. Dear, I hate to ask this of you on such short notice but I’m in a terrible fix.”
Charlie said no at least five times before she finally caved and agreed. If Mark had any feelings left for her at all, this was sure to destroy them.
“Thank you, my dear. You have no idea how much this means to me and how relieved I am. I knew I could count on you,” Martha gushed before hanging up.
“And you have no idea what this is going to cost me,” Charlie said out loud, walking to her bedroom. She sighed and pulled a garment bag from her closet. Throwing on her favorite jeans and a warm pink sweater she put on her makeup and pulled her hair into a high pony tail. At the last minute she remembered her bear ears and made her way from her apartment to the car, loaded down with bags.
Things were in full swing by the time she arrived at the rink. Vendors were setting up and she could smell popcorn and candy apples. She stopped at Josey’s booth, set up to raise money for the animal shelter.
“I need a hot chocolate, but don’t have a free hand,” she said. “And if you have any Kahlua back there, feel free to add a shot.”
“Wow, and this early too,” Josey answered with a grin. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”
“No, but if you would deliver it to that booth right over there, I’d make it worth your while,” Charlie said, nodding toward the enclosure Mark was opening.
“Hmm, just looking at him makes it worth my while,” Josey smirked. “Have you been holding out on me?”
“Maybe a little, but I’ll tell you all about it as soon as the ashes cool.”
“That bad, huh?”
“As bad as it gets,” Charlie admitted.
“I’ll bring it over in a few minutes. Want one for him? Should I try to find some arsenic?”
“No poison, I’m just about to deliver the fatal blow to our relationship myself,” Charlie answered sadly as she watched a man enter Josey’s booth.
“This is Evan,” Josey smiled. “He’s my new recruit at the shelter. Evan, this is Charlie.”
“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” the man smiled, exposing the most perfect white teeth in history.
“You too,” Charlie replied, shaking her head. Leave it to Josey to find a man who would even please her orthodontist father. “Don’t forget me, now,” she called over her shoulder. “I only had one coffee this morning and I’m a little touchy.”
“I’ll be there in five,” Josey promised, smiling up at Evan as he played with her red hair.
“I’ll probably never see it,” Charlie mumbled as she walked to the booth she was sharing with Mark.
“I thought you were supposed to be a pink bear?” Mark asked, taking some of her packages out of her hands.
“Costume is in one of the bags,” she replied shortly. “What still needs to be done?”
“Wrong side of the bed?” he asked.
“Wrong side of the universe,” she snapped.
“Anything I can do?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure there’ll be something you’ll want to do later.”
“You’re being pretty evasive,” Mark pointed out.
“I’m big on self-preservation.”
“All right, whatever it is you obviously don’t want to discuss it,” he stated sharply. “Let’s get these pamphlets on the stands and hang the sign. Maryellen made a ton of bear suckers, so we’ll give each child one of those and make sure the parents have the magnets with the Poison Control numbers. Once the kids start coming, you’ll have to change and do some skating.”
“Yes, sir,” she shot back, snagging the sign and exiting the booth.
He helped her, even though she insisted she could manage on her own. Josey brought them each a hot chocolate and that improved Charlie’s mood a little until Mark ordered her to “make like a bear” and get into her costume. Stomping away, she headed toward the clubhouse to change. When she returned wearing her pink velvet skirt trimmed in white fur and her bear ears headband there was already a line of kids waiting to take to the ice. She skated around offering encouragement and helping up the little ones who took a spill. Several times she escorted “injured” skaters to Doctor Mark for treatment which usually consisted of a bear s
haped ice pack applied to the injured area and a sucker.
By noon, the place was packed. There were toboggans being pulled up a hill by pulley as kids waited their turns to race down. All sorts of craft booths were set up to raise money for their favorite charity and there were enough food booths to feed an army.
Two bon fires were going, one on each side of the rink and attended by local firefighters for those who wanted to warm up but didn’t want the heat of the clubhouse.
The bleachers were nearly full when Dan stopped by their booth and told Charlie that Mrs. Clarkson was nearly ready for her.
Quietly, she picked up two bags, and ignoring Mark’s questioning look, exited the booth.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure,” Dan replied, “but I think you’d better close up shop for a bit. Let’s grab a spot on the bleachers. Maryellen is saving us a seat.”
Oh so carefully Charlie unzipped her garment bag and gently fingered the powder blue chiffon skirt of her competition costume. She hadn’t touched it in nearly five years when she hung it in her closet along with her dreams of being an Olympic champion. The bodice was scattered with crystals and rose high on her neck, the shoulders cut out entirely. Sheer sleeves, tight to the arm started just below the curve of her shoulder and came to delicate points on the back of her hands. The skirt, wisps of gossamer fabric that fluttered with each movement ended in a handkerchief hemline. Reverently she handled the dress that would forever end any chance she had of being happy with Mark.
Lying and manipulation were his major triggers and she was about to take to the ice and flaunt both sins.
You could go to him, her conscience urged her. Tell him why you lied. Tell him you wanted to be with him so badly you took the advantage when he offered. Apologize! Beg his forgiveness if you have to and go over his knees for the punishment you deserve. He said he didn’t hold grudges. Pay the price and see if you both can put it behind you.
I can’t, she countered. He’s so big, so strong. I don’t know if I can take a spanking when he’s really angry.
Has he ever hurt you, really hurt you, and not just your pride?
No.
Then what do you have to lose? This is the rest of your life you’re messing with. Swallow your pride and submit this one time. Then for heaven’s sake, behave yourself!
Taking down her hair, she brushed it until it hung in long curls down her back and fastened it back from her face with two crystal combs.
Charlie left the clubhouse and waited nervously near the entrance to the rink. Sitting, she slipped off her blade guards.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have a surprise for you today, a rare treat,” Martha announced over the loudspeaker. “Our own treasure, Miss Charlene Elliott, has agreed to give a performance guaranteed to steal your breath away. As you know, Miss Elliott was well on her way to becoming a world champion when her career was sidelined by an injury. Since then she has not skated publically, so let’s show her our appreciation for honoring us today. Please welcome, Charlene Elliott!”
The stands erupted in applause the moment she stepped onto the ice. Her music softly began to play and she focused on that, letting her body feel the melody. For a second she searched the crowd for Mark, and then she stopped. She knew instinctively it would be a mistake. She would never be able to skate once she saw the disappointment, perhaps disapproval on his face. Instead she glided to the center of the rink and took her position.
She skated to Clare du Lune by Debussy. The music was calming and beautiful, one of her favorites melodies. Charlie added some technical components, a single axel, a Lutz, a Sal chow and toe loop, but mostly stayed true to what it was. It was not a competition, but an ice dance to entertain the crowd. Clearing her mind, she let her body absorb the joy of flying effortlessly across the ice, lost in the moment.
Mark watched in awe. The sun glinting off the crystals on her costume made her appear ethereal. Her beautiful body was lithe as she made it all appear so effortless and he realized she’d never looked more lovely or happy. The layback spin was perfect, she was poetry in motion and held the crowd spellbound. She must have been fabulous at her peak. What a shame she’d given it up.
She’d lied, of course, but it was all relative. For a non-skater to say she wasn’t much good was one thing, for a professional who’d avoided the ice for a few years, saying the same words meant something entirely different. Had he not offered to “help” her, she may never have returned to the ice and he was both a little angry and extremely grateful. It would be a crime for someone as talented as Charlie to put her skates away for good.
His heart pounded in his chest. Looking at her now, he realized he could not let her go. The strength and determination to walk away from her was beyond him. There had to be a compromise somewhere in this complicated relationship. Yes, in time he might find another woman who agreed with his ideas of a perfect marriage, but that woman would not be Charlie.
Perhaps he’d been wrong not to take what she so freely offered. A physical bond, a taste of the pleasure they could bring each other might have made a difference. As much as he believed in and enjoyed disciplining his woman when she deserved it, an erotic spanking may have made her view the process as less scary and more appealing. He knew from experience that pleasure and pain often went hand in hand.
He’d have to call her on her lie, there was no way around it, but he could show her he might be lenient and loving as well while administering a punishment. So far he hadn’t been. The two times he’d spanked her, he’d meant business.
Mistakes had been made, and some had been his. Instead of demanding a commitment from her, he should have proposed marriage as soon as he realized she was the woman for him. There were strings attached to his declaration of love. He would love her, but she had to behave. What woman wants a proposal like that?
When she finished her routine, she dropped into a graceful curtsey, then stood and waved to the crowd. For a moment their eyes met and she took a hesitant step toward him, gliding across the ice, before coming to a stop and looking at him with a questioning expression on her face.
Mark stepped onto the ice and held his arms open, outstretched to her. He had no idea what he would do if she didn’t come to him and held his breath. Her slight grin was heartening and then she began to fly, straight into his arms with such force she took them both down as his arms closed around her. The crowd erupted in laughter as he bore her weight to the ice.
“Marry me, Charlie,” he asked, using one hand to hold her tight to him and the other to smooth her hair out of her face. “Marry me.”
“Are you going to spank me for lying?” she asked suspiciously, but with a resigned tilt to her lips.
“Yes, I am, but I promise you’ll enjoy it,” he replied with a wink.
“Is that possible?”
“Oh yes, very possible,” he assured her.
“Aren’t you mad at me for lying?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair.
“How can I be? If you hadn’t we wouldn’t be here now making a spectacle of ourselves in front of the entire town,” he answered with a laugh.
Charlie looked around as though finally realizing they were the main attraction. Rolling off him, she helped him to his feet.
“If I marry you, are you going to spank me for real?”
“Honey, I won’t lie to you. There may be times when I will, but only if you truly deserve it and even then I will never give you more than you can tolerate. It’s not about hurting you; it’s about helping you be the best person you can be. It’s about you having faith in me, believing that I’ll always love you enough to guide you in the right direction. Think you can handle that? Is there a chance you love me enough to give me everything, not just your heart, but your trust as well?
Charlie cupped his face in her hands and leaned into him.
“I will marry you, Mark. I love and trust you and I’ll try to be a good wife to you.”
“Thank God,”
he breathed, taking her hands and pulling them behind her to secure her to him. He kissed her with breathtaking passion as the crowd cheered. Finally, he released her and took her hand.
“Mark?”
“Yes, my love?”
“I just want you to know, that I might be a little bad sometimes, especially if I like the other kind of spanking,” she whispered with a cheeky grin.
“I hope so,” he laughed. At the edge of the rink he stepped off and swept her into his arms.
Looping an arm around his neck, she smiled and waved to the crowd with the other as he carried her away. Lord, she hoped he didn’t want a long engagement.
The End
Stevie MacFarlane
Hi, I'm Stevie MacFarlane. I live in a small rural community in Upstate NY, and I have been writing off and on for about twenty years in my spare time, although there wasn't much of that with a husband, five children and an assortment of supposedly domesticated pets.
Over the course of my life I have been a waitress, social worker, cook, sewing machine operator and a fine die cutter. I swear I had no idea what I was doing, but apparently the ability to take a wire finer than a strand of hair, sharpen it and feed it through a wire die, was enough for them to keep me on. I also worked for a very short time in a meat packing plant where I got to stand in front of a machine that spit boxes of frozen chicken at me, that was fun!
Then there was the plastic plant I enjoyed for a spell. The heat and smell were bad enough, but the excess hot plastic needed to be pulled off the parts and put into a grinder. I believe they called this byproduct 'spew' or some such thing. I was not quite fast enough to separate the parts and still get the excess into the shredder, (picture Lucy in the chocolate factory) so I just tossed it behind me until they came to break me for lunch. By that time I had a mountain of twisted plastic taller than me! Needless to say, I just turned in my gear and went home.
So I must say that I enjoy what I'm doing now. Of course, being retired gives me more time to let the characters in my head entertain me and hopefully, you as well. I would love hearing from you at [email protected] and thanks for stopping by.