The Contract, Part II
Friday, July 27, 2007
The Contract, Part II
By Nattie
Read the rest now at Discipline and Desire, or wait for the next installment next Friday. Enjoy!
Perhaps, I should take a moment to explain how we first came to spanking. See, I grew up fantasizing about spanking. Usually, it was a teacher who would suddenly see me and think me special. So special, in fact, that they needed to be stricter with me and teach me discipline and hard work. Generally, this extra attention was applied with a paddle or belt to my bare bottom.
Gradually, over the years, I started to feel it was a bit weird to be having these thoughts. I’d be daydreaming in class, and I’d stop and look around. The other students were all either writing notes, taking notes, or looking at the teacher in concentration. I’d wonder if any of them were thinking of spanking stories inside their head.
Invariably, I’d come to the conclusion-more and more often, as I got older-that I was just a little bit different in this area. So I cursed my fantasies and looked for a nice boy to come along and sweep me off my feet.
Chris and I met in a laundromat by our college, and we talked all night while we did our huge piles of laundry. I was pretty impressed that he seemed interested in me while I was in my laundry-doing clothes (an old, worn pair of sweats and a stained, threadbare t-shirt from my high school swimming days).
We had a very normal, uneventful courtship (we never did the break up then get back together dance that so many young couples do) and we had a normal, one-year engagement followed by a normal wedding with a white dress in a normal church in front of two or so hundred normal friends and not-so-normal family.
Then, we had a normal marriage, and we bought a normal house in a normal neighborhood.
I suppose it was a bit of a surprise to him when I let my decidedly un-normal fantasies invade our lives.
It began one night, about three months after we had moved into our new house. Chris stormed into the living room and informed me that he had had it up to here-he pointed to the middle of his forehead, I guess indicating that there was still a little room left to frustrate him-with my constant spending on the new house.
You know, thirty dollars here for a pretty set of towels for the guest bathroom. Then fifty dollars for a satiny new set of sheets. Eighty-two dollars for the new curtains in the living room (and they were on sale!) and two hundred dollars (oops) on a new bedspread. Somehow, by the time we had lived in our new house for three months, I had accumulated over six thousand dollars worth of little stuff without even realizing it.
When he saw the credit card statement, he was furious. As partner already at thirty-two, he was pretty accustomed to being in charge. He’d been ROTC at one time, until knee surgery had nixed his first dream of a military career.
I suppose that when he stormed around the living room lecturing me that night, he wasn’t expecting me to respond quite like I did. I mean, he took my credit card, cracked it in half and whisked my checkbook into his back pocket.
“No spending, no spending whatsoever-not a cent!-without me until you stop frivaling-” I know that’s not a word, but he was upset, and that’s what he said “-our money away on little purchases here and there!”
I don’t know what it was about it that made me do it. Looking back, I think it was his repeated use of the word ‘no’ that did me in. It could have been his t-shirt stretched over his muscled chest and his hands on his hips. Or, it could have been that he’d suddenly reconnected with what military training he’d had and was suddenly sounding like the Gunnery Sergeant from Officer and A Gentleman barking at Richard Gere.
Whatever it was, I’m sure he wasn’t expecting me to grab his face and kiss him more passionately than I had ever kissed him in the ten years that we had known each other.
It sort of took the steam out of his lecture, and he stared at me a little astonished and open-mouthed. I, however, couldn’t contain myself and we spent the next six hours-well, okay, maybe two hours-having the best sex we had ever had.
We didn’t discuss it, or talk about it, until the next day when he came home “sick” from work at lunchtime to ask me what the hell last night was all about.
“I’m sorry,” I said, in a small voice. I was pretty embarrassed. All those fantasies of childhood had been re-awoken at his alpha display. Decidedly un-normal fantasies, and Chris is a decidedly normal sort of person.
At my apology, he sighed. “Well, hell.”
Chris, I should mention, is not the sort of person who says hell. In fact, I’d never heard him say it until that day, and I haven’t heard it since.
“Hell,” he repeated. “I’m not sure that was something to be sorry about.”
I could only blush and stare at my tuna fish sandwich. I was mortified, but a giggle escaped my mouth as I thought of our fun last night. We’d made the kind of love I’d only seen on a flash of pornography while cruising through the channels to find something to watch late at night. Steamy, passionate … I was so embarrassed, and we’d been married for three and a half years.
“Hell,” he said yet again, “don’t be embarrassed.”
“You know I’m a prude. I’m mortified-that’s much more than embarrassed.” Even more than mortified, actually, because just as he had come home from work early, I had been eating my tuna fish sandwich and staring out the window imagining what it would be like for my husband to take me over his knee and lay down the law on my backside.
“What was last night all about?”
I shrugged, and then made the fatal mistake of looking at his hands. I’d never noticed they were so big and strong. He’s a lawyer, but he has the hands of a rancher. They weren’t rough and hang-nailed, but they were wider than I remembered, thick and strong. I couldn’t get my fantasy of that hand spanking my vulnerable bottom out of my mind.
(So if you don’t mind, reader, I’m going to edit out the next four hours of lovemaking, skip over the three hour nap after that, and jump straight to our late night dinner, where Chris wouldn’t let me up from the table until I told him what was going on.)
“Well,” I said. I had eaten every bit of macaroni and cheese, but I still scraped my fork along the plate to get a little of the leftover cheese. “I think I’m weird.”
“Weird,” he prompted.
“Well, I’ve always had these weird sort of fantasies.”
When it became evident that I was not going to elaborate on my own, Chris parroted my last word back to me again. “Fantasies?”
I said it real fast, hoping that he wouldn’t catch my words. “Sorta like alpha hubby lays down the law and spanks wife sort of thing, like.” No, I’m not from the valley in California with their high-pitched “likes” of the eighties, I was just nervous.
And then I held my breath, which was a bad idea because he didn’t respond for over a minute.
“Did you say spank?”
Oh god. I nodded and a few tears of fear slipped down my face as my breath whooshed out and blew my napkin across the table.
“Oh,” he replied. Then-would you believe it!-he busied himself with putting the dishes in the dishwasher, gave me a good night kiss, and went into his office. I sat there alone in the kitchen for over a half hour, not sure what to think. I finally went up to bed and fell asleep, not waking when Chris crawled in bed next to me.
Weeks passed where a silence developed between us, and he said nothing about the desires I had confessed to him. Then, one day, I wrote him an email while he was at work. Our sex had stopped cold turkey, and we were completely avoiding the issue. It took me almost six hours to compose the few sentences I sent off to him that afternoon.
Chris,
Having fun drafting your contracts? Just wanted to ask if you could bring home some dinner. I’m caught up in that article the newspaper asked me to write. I’ve got to have it to the editor by five tonight.
Maybe some Chinese?
Luvvles,
Jen
PS: Do you think I’m a freak?
Read the rest--and many other wonderful stories--at Discipline and Desire, or wait for the next installment next Friday. Or both!!
Labels: free stories
2 Comments:
I'm enjoying the story. Been waiting all week for part III for hubby's response. Did you change your mind?
Thanks,
KJ
You've got such a wonderful way of getting inside the characters' head.
I'm taking my time, and enjoying this series.
~x~Will
