Arabella's Taming

by Golden Angel

  "At the Hydes'."

  Unfortunately, as usually happened with his tactics, this one didn't go the way he expected. It only took her a moment for her quick mind to catch up to him and a rebellious glint to form in her eye. Tilting her chin up, she looked much less submissive and more defiant.

  "We were invited. I decided I wanted to go and so I made the decision for both of us. Is that not the example you already set for how our marriage works?"

  The haughty tone she used made his palm itch, especially since her answer soothed him in a way. This wasn't about Hartford or her being unhappy at all, no this was another small rebellion because of his unilateral decision that she wouldn't have her morning gallops. Yes, she was definitely going to be spanked tonight.

  "Which I already apologized for," he said, giving her a stern look. "As we've been out riding since then I'm more than a little perturbed that you insist on dwelling on it."

  Arabella stomped her foot. Actually stomped her foot. Thomas stared at her, a bit aghast. As usual, his reaction meant absolutely nothing to her and she glared back at him, completely unembarrassed.

  "I'm not talking about that! I'm talking about barring Hartford from the house!"

  Now it was Thomas' turn to be thrown completely off-balance as he stared at her in utter bafflement. "What house?"

  "This house! This..." Her voice trailed off, her mutinous expression slipping away as she realized he had no idea what she was talking about. "Hartford is barred from the house. He came to call and Appleby refused to admit him. Someone had to have ordered it and I couldn't imagine..."

  Closing his eyes, Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for patience. "Let me see if I understand this correctly. You thought I had barred Hartford from the house without consulting you and in response, rather than coming to talk to me, you decided it would be more beneficial to engage in your own act of non-communication. Do I have that correct?"

  ******

  Bother and damnation.

  Thomas had it absolutely correct. Arabella had made an assumption and... well, obviously she'd gotten a few things wrong. Then she'd compounded her mistake by not going to ask him if he was actually the guilty party. Which she should have done before setting judgment and punishment upon him.

  Opening his eyes and lowering his hand, her husband glared at her. She slumped slightly. Whatever punishment he decided on, she would likely deserve it. I might even like it, a little voice inside her head whispered. If she could have shushed that voice, she would have.

  "Marriage is about communication and compromise, Arabella," he lectured. Feeling strangely meek, knowing she was clearly in the wrong and what was likely going to follow the lecture, she just nodded. "We had a miscommunication about your morning rides, but once we did speak we reached a compromise. If you don't come to talk to me, I can't fix whatever slight you think I've committed or reassure you that it was not me."

  “Yes, Thomas,” she said, trying not to sound too sulky.

  She didn’t like being entirely in the wrong, but in this case—unlike with her morning ride—she certainly had been and there was no denying it. To her amusement, Thomas frowned, as if trying to read some hidden argument in her words. She supposed she couldn’t blame him but it was rather funny.

  “Why were you with Hartford?” he asked—demanded really. The jealousy she’d seen before flared again, she was willing to swear to it, and a little trickle of excitement slid through her. Not that she’d intended to make him jealous. From what she’d seen the best marriages among her friends didn’t have a place for jealousy. The only exceptions might be Wesley and Cynthia and they were rarely actually jealous. They just liked to play games.

  “I saw him as I was making my way round the room, after speaking with Felix and Gabrielle,” she said, guessing where he’d received his information about the house party. After all, she couldn’t very well tell them not to mention it to him—it would only have ensured that Felix certainly would. Apparently the topic had arisen anyway, but she’d done her best. Perhaps it was better this way. She could only imagine how much more furious Thomas would have been if she hadn’t mentioned it until it was time to pack. “He looked rather sad and, knowing he had come to call and been turned away, I wanted to speak with him and ensure I had no hand in his disposition.”

  Thomas made a huffy noise in the back of his throat and Arabella had to hide her smile. Her husband was likely thinking that she had no qualm affecting his disposition, which was quite true. But he certainly gave back as much as he received.

  “And had you?”

  “In a roundabout manner,” she admitted. “He’s ending the Season without a bride and he asked me if I had any recommendations, having met quite a few more young ladies than he has.”

  “That was it?”

  Arabella nodded. She tilted her head at him. “Are you… were you jealous?”

  His eyes flashed. “Were you trying to make me so?”

  “No!” Her sincere denial rang between them.

  After a long moment, Thomas cleared his throat. “Yes. I was. But that’s not your fault and I don’t suggest you attempt to do it on purpose in the future. However…”

  Recognizing the look in his dark eyes, Arabella’s fingers tightened around each other. She was thrilled to know he’d been jealous, although she knew she wasn’t going to have much time to contemplate what it might mean at the moment.

  Shrugging off his jacket, Thomas undid his cuffs and began to roll up his shirtsleeves, uncovering his muscled forearms, sprinkled with dark hair. There was something both threatening and exciting about the simple act and she pressed her legs together beneath her skirt. Her bottom twitched.

  “Since we had already discussed the need for clearer communication, I fear I’m going to have to be harder on you than I was last time,” Thomas said, still working on his sleeves. She knew she should protest, should be angry or frightened, but she was lacking in both emotions. Perhaps because she did feel some guilt or perhaps because part of her was anticipating the event.

  Unable to find the words to respond, Arabella just stared at her husband.

  He looked up at her as he finished rolling his second sleeve above his elbow.

  “Come here, little minx.”

  Chapter 14

  Stripping his wife completely naked, without the kisses and caresses he’d bestowed upon her when doing so while they were engaged in more pleasurable past times, Thomas bent the bare Arabella over the edge of his bed. The support of the bed would help her keep position and also ensure her bottom was raised and vulnerable the whole time. She shivered under his touch and he wasn’t entirely surprised to see her pussy glistening with wetness. Something he was beginning to realize was exactly how thoroughly Arabella responded to being dominated.

  He hadn’t quite figured out all her particular quirks, because she certainly didn’t always respond in the manner he expected, but there was no denying that when he truly took charge of her, she followed. Even if it only lasted until she’d orgasmed.

  The creamy coloring of her skin was very pale against his dark red bedspread. He wasn’t going to spank her bottom to match the deep hue… today.

  Moving away, he saw her start to look over her shoulder and immediately ordered her back into position. “Face straight ahead, Arabella. You don’t need to see what I’m doing, I’ll show you soon enough.”

  It made him grin and shake his head when she actually obeyed.

  Yes, she was certainly going to keep him on his toes. He wondered if he’d ever be able to anticipate regularly whether she was going to obey or defy him. Although, admittedly, he’d found that in the bedroom she tended towards obedience. Maybe that’s why she’d become so submissive as soon as they’d entered the room.

  Certainly something to keep in mind for future discussions.

  Going to his wardrobe he quickly selected the implement he had in mind for this evening—a split leather strap about a foot long with a handle for gripping, i
t was well oiled, very supple, and Thomas’ favorite way to deliver medium-impact discipline. The blows would redden her bottom and sting, but the main punishment would be a deeper throbbing which would stay with her through tomorrow. It would save his hand from having to spank her that hard, although he certainly intended to warm her bottom before beginning with the tawse.

  Heating her skin would actually make it easier for her to bear the strap.

  Returning to the bed, Thomas laid the tawse down in front of her so it would be right in her line of vision while she was being spanked. She sucked in a surprised breath and shot him a worried look, her curls spilling over her shoulder as her head jerked towards him.

  “Twenty-five with my hand, five with that,” he said, nodding to the thick leather, keeping his tone blasé. It was about two inches wide, so five blows would be more than enough to cover the entirety of her bottom. There was likely to be some overlap as well.

  A bit of anxiety wouldn’t hurt her, and eventually she’d realize that while the tawse certainly hurt, it wasn’t going to cause her any lasting harm.

  Resting his fingertips on her lower back, Thomas rubbed his other hand over her bottom, standing to the side of her so he could see the whole line of her body and half of her face.

  “Now, do you understand why you’re being punished, Arabella?”

  “Yes.” She gritted out the word, a little resentfully.

  “Tell me,” he said, ignoring her tone. Resentfulness didn’t surprise him. Neither of them liked to admit to their failings.

  A long sigh made her body relax as she resigned herself to his insistence. Thomas gave her bottom a little squeeze as a reward.

  “Because instead of coming to you to discuss your high-handed behavior—what I thought was your high-handed behavior—I didn’t talk to you at all, I just retaliated.” She paused. “Who do you think did tell the staff not to admit him?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out,” he said, refusing to be distracted. “I hope from now on we’ll be able to talk things through instead of just reacting. It’s the only way to keep us both from being miserable.”

  Strangely, she tensed and he wasn’t sure what he had said to make her do so, but she relaxed again so quickly he decided to let it go. Being able to talk things through didn’t mean they had to know every thought which ran through the other’s head.

  “Yes, Thomas,” she said meekly. Her bottom moved, lifting upwards a little as if asking for her spanking to begin.

  Maybe she was.

  He lifted his hand.

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  Although he was by no means gentle, he was not immediately harsh either. The crisp swats made her bottom jiggle, pinking her skin. Only after he’d laid down an initial layer did he begin to spank her more forcefully, that’s when she finally began to make little whimpering noises that slowly became louder each time his palm smacked against her reddening bottom.

  “Oh!” Her little gasp came on the sixteenth swat, a small cry that she couldn’t hold back.

  ******

  The spanking hadn’t been so bad at first, but it certainly hurt more now… yet Arabella couldn’t decide if she was truly pained or aroused. Her bottom throbbed, but there was an answering throb between her legs as well. Propped up on her elbows the way she was, her breasts swayed beneath her, her nipples rubbing against the bedding, staring at the leather strap in front of her…

  She whimpered as the burning in her bottom grew.

  Realized that the tawse was going to be laid down atop her already sore cheeks.

  Thomas’ hand smacked hard against the middle of her right cheek, and she let out a little cry. How long had he already spanked her? She hadn’t been keeping track, knowing that he would, but now she wished she had. How much worse would her bottom be burning by the time he strapped her?

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  The next two were the hardest yet and the tears gathered in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks.

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  Oh it had to be over soon didn’t it? Arabella’s fingers clenched in the sheets… and then she realized Thomas’ hand was resting on her bottom.

  “Warm, but not hot,” he murmured. “That will change in a moment.”

  Arabella moaned, more in anxiety than pain as his hand appeared beside her head, reaching for the tawse.

  It was true, her bottom didn’t hurt nearly as badly as during her first disciplinary spanking with him, but she was sure he was about to correct that. Likely the only reason he'd been so light—by comparison because before her marriage Arabella certainly wouldn't have called this spanking light—was because of what was to come next.

  Thomas patted her left cheek, almost consolingly. "Almost done, sweetheart, and from now on you're going to come talk to me as a first resort and not a last, aren't you?"

  "Yes, Thomas," she said, a little wave of resentment washing over her again. She knew what she'd done wrong, why did he have to keep repeating it?

  Maybe because it didn't sink in the first time.

  There were definitely days when she wished she didn't have a rational little voice in the back of her head.

  Well she was very sorry she hadn't at least asked him if he'd been the one to bar Hartford from the house. She should have. If he'd answered in the affirmative then they could have had a proper row and if he hadn't seen reason she could have done her best to make him miserable then.

  Although she was beginning to realize she didn't truly want to be miserable. Or to make him miserable. She wanted them both to be happy, together, something which she thought might very well be within her reach.

  Even if he did keep spanking her.

  THWAP!

  Arabella's elbows buckled and she screamed at the burning sensation now striped across her bottom. Her breasts flattened against the bed and the arousal she'd been feeling was suddenly overcome by the pain shooting through her in reaction to the leather.

  That hurt!

  "One." Thomas counted the first stroke and she nearly sobbed, remembering that he'd said five of these. Five!

  She started to push up, trying to turn around, but his hand landed on the small of her back, pressing down firmly and pinning her to the bed.

  "Thomas! Please! It hurts!"

  "Good," he said, sounding a bit grim. "Perhaps you'll remember better next time then."

  THWAP!

  She screamed, slumped, the tears wetting the bed cover beneath her cheek as her body shook with the shock of the second blow. The paddle her brother had occasionally wielded when she'd been particularly bad hadn't hurt like this. Of course, the paddle had never been wielded on her bare bottom either, and Thomas had begun as a stricter disciplinarian than Isaac had ever been.

  "Two."

  A gentle hand brushed over the welts rising on her bottom and Arabella cried harder at the tender touch before his fingers returned to the small of her back. She felt helpless. Hot. Her bottom was swollen and throbbing. She didn't protest, although she did squirm under Thomas' palm, unable to keep her legs from dancing at the heat now emanating above them.

  "Good girl."

  For some reason the accolade actually helped, and she didn't know why because it wasn't as if it made any difference physically... but a pleasant warmth spread through her chest all the same.

  Then she heard the movement through the air which had preceded the other strokes of leather. Her bottom tried to clench, but the position she was in—with her legs slightly spread so she could lay flat on her stomach—meant her muscles couldn't obey satisfactorily.

  THWAP!

  This time she didn't scream as the strap landed just under where the second one had. He was laying down stripes across her bottom, each one just beneath the other. Arabella no longer even felt a sting where he'd spanked her but hadn't yet used the leather.

  Two more... just two more...

  THWAP!

  THWAP!

/>   As if hearing her thoughts that she couldn't bear it much longer, Thomas laid the last two punishing strokes quickly, the very last one catching the lips of her pussy and making her cry out again as she sobbed.

  The burn was spreading and she didn't understand how or why her body responded the way it did. Deep down, she was starting to wonder if she was more like Cynthia than she ever realized.

  Thomas pulled her up away from the bed, gathering her in his arms and stroking her hair, cradling her against him. Arabella clung to him, trying to understand all the conflicting, contrasting messages her body was sending to her. She didn't pull away though, finding that she rather liked being held, soothed, as he murmured his praise over how well she'd taken her discipline.

  While her brother had always hugged her after a spanking and coddled her tears, the tears had usually been false and it certainly hadn't given her this same sense of strange pride and contentment. She actually felt a small sense of triumph at having gotten through her punishment, and all she wanted to do was snuggle closer to Thomas. In fact, she wanted to do more than snuggle.

  Arabella yanked on his cravat, and his hands—which had been caressing her—stilled as she pulled it from around his throat and began on his buttons next.

  "Arabella?" he asked, sounding confused and more than a little surprised. "What are you doing?"

  As if it wasn't obvious.

  "Oh, shut up and kiss me, you fool," she muttered, fisting her hands in his shirt and pulling him down to meet her lips.

  ******

  The thought that he should probably spank her for calling him a fool flitted through his head, but he pushed it aside as the desperation in her kiss drew him in. She kissed him like she was drowning and he was the air she needed to breathe. His cock swelled, jerking against her as she pressed herself into him.

  Hands on her back, he pulled her in even closer, and then couldn't help but chuckle as she found their position didn't help with disrobing him. Her frustration was evident as she moved back, parting their lips and putting enough space between them that she could continue to attack the buttons of his shirt. Declining to help her, Thomas instead ran his hands over her delectable curves.