The Contract, Part III
Friday, August 17, 2007
The Contract, Part III
By Nattie
Read the rest now at Discipline and Desire, or wait for the next installment next Friday. Enjoy!
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,
JenPS: Do you think I’m a freak?
Almost two minutes after I sent that nonchalant email that took me six hours to draft, he wrote back.
Jen,
A freak? Of course not, whatever would make you think I would think such a thing?
Luvvles,
ChrisPS: I’ll stop at Hunan’s, but I won’t be out of here for another two or three hours.
I should mention that my article for the newspaper had already been sent off, and that I could very well cook dinner. But I needed some excuse to write him. My reply took three drafts and an hour and a half to sound casual.
Chris,
No biggie. It’s just that I noticed we haven’t kissed in a little while, that’s all.
Luvvles,
JenPS: Will you get a couple extra orders of fried rice for my lunches this week?
PPS: Sorry it took so long to write you back, I was working on the article and didn’t hear the ding of your email.
Okay, I’m not proud of myself, bending the truth like that. I’m not a chicken, either. It’s just that this spanking thing was like a virus in my heart. Now that I had seen it, it was like a cancer, all those fantasies from my childhood invading my random thoughts. I kept seeing his hand and dreaming about his hand, and I even went so far as to lay on the bed this morning with my panties down, like a girl about to get her butt spanked. Even though it was only me in the house, I was so embarrassed that I popped up and pulled my pants up almost instantly.
I felt a leap in my heart as I heard the ding of new mail.
Jen,
Why do I get this feeling that you’ve already finished your article? This is Chris, your husband, you can talk to me.
And I don’t think you’re a freak. In fact, I’ve been doing some surfing. There are others who feel exactly as you do about spanking, did you know that?
Luvvles,
Chris
For some weird reason, I deleted the email as soon as I read it, and then had to go into my Outlook trashcan to read it again.
I didn’t reply, but spent the next two hours before he came home discovering the wide world of spanking. As soon as he came home, I ran to him and hugged him, burying my head in his chest.
It had been a start to our communication, and he told me that “sometime” he’d spank me, but that I’d have to take the lead in this. He didn’t want to cross the line, and he was afraid of turning into a “controlling, abusive husband.”
So, dear reader, that’s where it all started, which is why I was surprised, on this Sunday different from all other Sundays, that he was so enthusiastic about this contract idea—one that I had not planted in his head, might I add?
He pulled out his laptop, plugged it in and set it up on the table. (Coffee pot still untouched, I should add.)
We, Christopher and Jennifer Richardson, do, on this third day of May, the year of our Lord Two—
“Oh, cut that out!” I cried. When his fingers froze, I added, “Real language, not lawyer speak. Do you know I had to consult a lawyer to understand that pre-nup that you wrote? I mean, I didn’t even know until I talked to him that you practically promised me the shirt off your back if you ever left me, cheated on me, or asked for a divorce.”
He looked a little taken back. “Well, I want to make sure you’ll be taken care of. I can always make money.”
“And, I can’t?” I narrowed my eyes at him, preparing for battle.
Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not that, sweetie. I just thought that if we had kids, or something, and you decided to stay home, I wouldn’t want you to suddenly have to be a raising children on your own while working a full time job.”
“You wouldn’t do that to me!” He wouldn’t, ever, that’s why I fell in love with him.
He just shook his head and chuckled. “That was the point, sweetie. I wanted you to know that.”
“Oh.” Still, I pulled the laptop away from him and erased what he’d written.
Chris and Jen promise to each other, on 5/3/03, the following:
Chris chuckled. “Remember our first spanking?”
You know, I still blush. We’ve incorporated spanking into our lives for over two years, but I still blush when he—or I, for that matter—use the ‘s’ word. I forget the details of why I went over his knee. Maybe I snapped something at him, something rude and bitchy during that awful PMS time.
He’d popped a hand on my bottom, and my temper hit the roof, to his dismay. I was just completely out of hormonal control, actually. My poor husband tries to give me my fantasy, and what do I do?
Freak out.
Some thanks I gave him, huh? He seemed to think so. He had gone into his office and wouldn’t come out for over three hours. When he came out, he did it right.
“Young lady?”
When Chris emerged from his office, he was not angry, which made it all the more difficult for me. For the entire time he was bottled up in the office, I was torn between self-righteous indignation and guilt.
If he had been angry, it would have been easy to choose self-righteous indignation and launch into a good row. But as luck would have it, Chris was calm and controlled.
“Come into the office,” he said. “We need to have a discussion.”
Now what girl with spanko-fantasies wouldn’t melt at those words? Of course, guilt won, hands down, and I shuffled into his office—I mean, our office—like a recalcitrant schoolchild.
We didn’t discuss why I’d responded so poorly to his earlier whack on my bottom. He just pulled out a wooden ruler, placed it in the middle of the large oak desk that he had inherited from his grandfather, and positioned himself in front of the desk like he was a principal about to give a good old-fashioned English caning.
“I think you know what to do,” he said.
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
