Confessions of a Kinky Wife (5 page)

‘I want you to try and keep still,’ he said when I started to wriggle. ‘Your book recommends that, you know? You’ve read it, have you?’

‘A bit,’ I said, sucking in a breath. He was speeding up and it made stillness very difficult to achieve.

‘It says it’s important to expect good behaviour when you’re administering punishment. It’s a good idea to insist on stillness and silence. I’m not going to insist on silence yet, but it might be something to aim for in future.’

Oh, God. He was getting right into this. He envisaged it as being part of our marriage dynamic. This was what I’d hoped for … wasn’t it?

I made the most of his not-enforcing-a-silence rule and began to whimper and moan as heat flushed the skin of my bottom.

‘So, yes, you can make as much noise as you like, within reason. But you can stop that kicking right now.’

He smacked my bare thigh, very hard. I put my legs back down immediately.

‘Do you know what else it says?’ he asked me, spanking away.

‘Lots of things,’ I snarked.

I curled my toes and tried to keep my muscles rigid, working to deflect my brain’s attention away from the increasing hurt and heat of my rear.

‘It says you should stop clenching your bum cheeks. If you clench them, you get extra strokes of something much nastier than my hand. What do you think of that?’

‘It’s mean,’ I gasped, unclenching my glutes and feeling the extra sting accordingly.

‘It’s effective,’ he said. ‘Ah, yes, this feels much better.’

He sped up and I clenched again.

‘That’s another stroke of the brush,’ he said.

I wailed and tried to wrench my hands from his grip so I could protect my bum, but he just told me that was yet
another
stroke of the brush.

‘You’re like a robot without any pity,’ I complained and he laughed.

‘This is what you wanted, girl. This is what you’ve got.’

He knew I would be disappointed if he showed any sign of weakness. I supposed I ought to be grateful for his strong resolution. But gratitude wasn’t finding much room to squeeze in between the harder and harder smacks.

When he stopped I let out a huge gusty sigh of relief. I was warm all over.

‘There, that’ll do for a warm-up,’ he said, stroking and rubbing my bottom. He pulled the waistband of my shorts tight, peeking inside. ‘You’re a lovely shade of bright red. It suits you. Now I want you to go and stand in the corner with your hands on your head while you wait for phase two.’

‘Oh, what? Why?’

My combative tone probably wasn’t a good idea, but somehow the idea of hanging around facing the wall was worse than the actual spanking.

‘What do you mean, why? Haven’t you read that book?’

‘Only the hot bits,’ I admitted in a rebellious mutter.

‘In other words, just the bits about spanking? So you didn’t read about corner time?’

‘No. What’s hot about that?’

‘The point is, my love, it concentrates your mind on what you have done and what is about to be done to you. It’s supposed to deepen your sense of shame and penitence. And we want that, don’t we?’

I didn’t reply.

Since I was still bare-arsed over his lap, he gave me an encouraging smack.

‘Hmm?’

‘I guess so.’

‘No, you don’t “guess so”, Philippa.’

Another smack. How did he get so hardcore so quickly?

‘Yes.’

‘Yes. So up you get and over to the corner.’

It felt like crossing the desert. I couldn’t believe I was voluntarily placing myself in this humiliating position, but eventually there I was, nose pressed to the wall, hands on my head, back to the room.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now, you’re going to stay there while I have my breakfast. If you move a muscle while I’m out of the room, I will know, and I’ll punish you for it. Are you going to behave?’

‘Yes.’

‘While you’re there, I want you to think about why you’re being punished, and how you’re going to avoid suffering the same fate for the same reason in the future. Yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you might consider adding “sir” to that.’

‘God, seriously?’

‘Yes, seriously.’

He left the room without enforcing it that time, but my stomach had coiled into a little spring of guilty pleasure at the idea. Sometimes, during sex, I wanted to call him ‘sir’, but I’d never had the nerve to say it out loud.

All my dreams were coming true in the most bizarre fashion.

So, there I was. I supposed I ought to think about the dull subject of eating at meal times. How would I ensure I didn’t forget to in future? Was there an app for it? I’d look into the possibility. There. He couldn’t say I wasn’t taking it seriously now.

This was boring, though.

At least my bottom wasn’t hurting so much. The sting began to fade straight away, but I couldn’t resist peeking over my shoulder at the bed, reminding myself that it would soon be right back there.

I smelled toast and coffee and my stomach rumbled. I wanted some! Wasn’t this meant to be about eating properly? But perhaps my digestion wouldn’t be so good if I tucked in before bending back over. He had truly taken every detail into consideration.

It must have been about ten minutes later that he strolled back in. I was rocking to and fro on the balls of my feet, trying to enliven the silly situation I’d put myself in.

‘Ready?’ he said.

I nodded.

‘Come to the bed, then, and lie over the pillows.’

Making me put myself into position to be spanked was a perfect piece of headspace manipulation. I felt I ought to resist, to force him to drag me to my fate, but somehow I couldn’t. I knew it had to be and there was no point trying to get out of it. By hook or by crook, Dan was intent on administering my punishment.

I couldn’t look at him, though, as I walked over to the bed then arched myself over the pillows with my face buried in the duvet and my bum pushed up high.

‘That’s it,’ he said, making sure I was perfectly presented by pressing down on certain parts of my spine and shoulder blades. ‘It’s your job to keep your bottom right up. No trying to change positions, to make it easier on yourself. You need to work on offering it to me. I want those shorts tight and straining over your cheeks for as long as you’re allowed to keep them on. Tighter. That’s it.’

I pushed my arse out as far as I could, until I worried that my thin cotton shorts might split at the seams. This had the effect of spreading my cheeks naturally apart and my gusset split my pussy lips, rubbing against my clit.

‘I’m going to get you some special knickers, I think,’ he said contemplatively, rubbing my bum through the material. ‘A size or two smaller. Really, really tight, so they stretch very thin. Special punishment knickers, to be put on when you need a spanking.’

I tried very hard not to be incredibly turned on but I could feel my clit pulsing against the strip of cotton.

‘It can all be part of the ritual,’ he said.

Then, to the right of my face, I sensed that he was picking up The Belt.

‘Three with this over your shorts, then three more on your bare bottom,’ he decreed.

Instinctively, I clenched.

‘No clenching.’

Oh, dear, this was going to be hard.

And it was – very hard. The first stroke cracked down like fire, way worse than anything he had given me before.

I moaned and swivelled my hips, taking courage in the fact that I knew the number of strokes, and it was finite and bearable.

Or was it? The second stroke made me yelp and buck forward, trying to hide my poor burning bottom from further unpleasantness.

‘Up,’ he said, merciless as Ming. ‘Now.’

I obeyed, clinging to the duvet for dear life, and he laid the third stroke lower, so that the belt crossed my pussy lips and the bunched-up mess between them, as well as the curved lower part of my bottom. It was a really fierce stroke and I made a sobbing sound.

‘OK,’ said Dan. ‘I know that hurt. I know it did.’

He knelt on the bed beside me and pulled down my shorts to the knees. His palm roved around my cheeks, with their three brands of fire, massaging blissfully.

‘This stops you bruising,’ he informed me.

‘And there I was, thinking you were doing it out of the kindness of your heart,’ I retorted.

He laughed and patted my sore spots gently.

‘I am, in a way,’ he said. ‘Cruel to be kind and all that. Oh, God, I want to kiss you, but the book says not to. Not till afterwards.’

‘Stupid damn book.’

‘Now then. You don’t want me to punish you for disrespecting the book, do you?’

I should never have ordered the bloody thing. Never.

But I pushed my body back into his loving caresses and felt myself, quite unexpectedly, ready for more of the belt.

On bare skin its tongue was twice as sharp, lashing down with instant heat. But I was ready for it, and I wanted it now. The warm-up had done a good job, loosening me up, preparing me to take harder strokes and firmer implements.

He finished the three and rubbed my bottom again, slowly and erotically. I wanted him to touch me between my legs, but it seemed that area was strictly off-limits.

‘Now,’ he said. ‘Before I continue, let’s talk. Why did you skip lunch yesterday?’

‘Because I forgot. I was very busy.’

‘That’s understandable, but it’s not the first time. In fact, it became quite an issue before. You remember?’

‘Yes … Sir.’ I enjoyed saying it. Immediately the word was out, I wanted to say it again.

‘So why didn’t you deal with it properly then? Why didn’t you find a workable solution to the problem?’

‘I thought I’d be OK.’

‘You thought wrong, though, didn’t you?’

‘I suppose so.’

His fingertips danced so sweetly along the six thick lines of heat, now starting to cool. If only he’d push them inside me … I longed for it.

‘So what are you going to do about it now? Forget again and have to be punished more severely?’

‘No, Sir. I was thinking … there might be an app for my phone. I could use the alarm feature. Have it keep going off at fifteen minute bursts after midday until I ate something.’

He patted me.

‘Yes. That could work. Do that then.’

I basked in his approval.

‘So,’ he continued, ‘now we’ve solved that little problem, there’s just the matter of rounding off this punishment.’

He picked up the hairbrush.

I didn’t really know what to expect from it. It seemed absurd to be spanked with one’s own hairbrush, such an innocuous item.

‘Six on your bare bottom for the original issue, plus two extra for disobedience during punishment. You’re going to count them for me. Ready? Bum nice and high, please.’

I thrust it back out, full of optimism that we’d have time for a good hard screw once this was done. God knows I was dripping down there.

All my optimism vanished with the first impact of wood on flesh.

I actually screamed – it was so much more painful than I anticipated.

‘Calm down, now, or there’ll be more. Count it.’

He sounded rattled, maybe because he hadn’t thought it would hurt me this much.

‘One,’ I said. ‘That’s very, very painful. I don’t think I can do eight.’

‘Can you try?’

‘Oh … I don’t know … oh, go on then.’

‘We can take a break if you need to. But I’m going to give you all of them.’

I’m pretty sure he didn’t put as much of himself into the next one. It was less shocking, but perhaps that was because I knew what to expect.

I still felt that he’d burned an oval bruise, deep into my tissues.

He rubbed me again after the third and whispered in my ear that he was proud of me.

That worked wonders. I was able to take all of the last five, in quick, hard succession, without much more than a few little whimpers before the count.

‘There,’ he said. ‘Lesson learned?’

‘Yes,’ I promised. ‘I’ll eat my lunch every day.’

‘Good girl. Now hold still for just a moment more.’

I didn’t know what he had planned, but I heard a faint click and sensed a flash.

‘Are you taking a photograph?’

‘Yes. I thought we should keep a punishment diary. The book suggests it. It’s valuable for keeping track of recurring bad behaviours and consistency of discipline. I’ll post this picture and you can write up an account of it.’

‘What, now?’

‘Yes, now.’

‘But I was hoping …’

‘Mmm, I know. But the book doesn’t recommend fucking straight after punishment. It makes it seem like a reward, you see. You’re going to have to wait till you get home tonight. And no touching either.’

‘But that’s really harsh!’

‘I know. Come here, though. It doesn’t say I can’t give you a hug.’

I raised my groggy head and crawled over to him. I didn’t want to sit down – my bottom felt very tender and hot still – so I knelt back on my heels and let him enfold me in his arms.

It was a lovely feeling, truly safe and tired and relaxed, despite the ache behind.

‘Thank you,’ I said, the words coming from nowhere.

‘For what?’ He jerked his neck back and looked down at me, quizzically amused.

‘For not laughing at me about this. For taking the trouble to do it properly. For caring.’

‘Hey, no worries,’ he whispered, and he didn’t resist me when I kissed him.

When I tried to put my hands where they weren’t allowed to go, though, he broke the kiss and sat back, shaking his head and laughing.

‘Stop trying to tempt me,’ he said. ‘You’re going to have to wait. Now get to that computer and write up your account.’

I pouted. ‘You aren’t really going to let some stupid old book tell you what to do, are you?’

‘It’s a guide, love. It doesn’t tell me what to do. It makes suggestions. I choose to follow some and not others. Now, go.’

He pushed me to my feet and smacked my bottom. I winced and pulled up my shorts, retiring with what little dignity I had left to the living room and the computer desk.

I sat on a cushion to write my account, then saved it and went to get breakfast.

He left before I’d finished, giving me a rough kiss and a bit of a grab before heading out of the door.