Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband) (10 page)

BOOK: Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband)
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Oliver considered this for a moment. “Do you think you should be?”

“Are you asking me?”

“Yes, I’m giving you a choice. We’re very new to this, we’re still laying out ground rules. We’ve talked about obeying laws for your safety, we’ve talked about how we will speak to each other in the future. In this situation, concerning our son, I’m willing to let you off with a warning.”

Take it! My mind screamed at me. Take the pass! I opened my mouth with every intention of saying so, but somehow what came out was, “I think you should punish me.”

If he was surprised by my decision, he didn’t show it. “Jonah’s blaring his music. What do you think about staying down here to do it?”

Numbly, I nodded. I wondered if I cried Uncle, if I said I’d made a mistake, would he let me out of it? But something inside of me, the same something that had had me say I should be punished wouldn’t let me take it back.

“I’ll be right back.”

I watched in trepidation as Oliver stood and walked into the kitchen. My stomach clenched into a tight knot when he took a wooden spoon from the utensil holder. The only thing that helped was seeing the love on his face, the tenderness in his eyes as he walked back to me.

“I’m going to make this quick,” he said. He helped me back over his lap, and I steadied myself with my palms down on the floor. “Now, honey, the reason I’m going to spank you is the fact you undermined me in front of our son. We should always try to be on the same page, at least when he can see. I shouldn’t have scolded you, that’s true, but I wouldn’t have if you had just let me handle it, like we agreed.”

“I’m sorry,” I said mournfully,
tensing on his lap.

“Let’s remember to be considerate of each other from here on out.”

I nodded, braced and waiting. Oliver surprised me by sliding my sweat pants down my bottom, and hooking his thumbs in my underwear. “Please, leave them up!” I pleaded.

But it wasn’t to be.
My panties were pulled down too, and my husband wasted no time in warming up my butt. His hand bounced from cheek to cheek, smacking the same two places, right where my thigh met my bottom. He landed swat after swat until my teeth were gritted against the pain—and against the urge to cry out.

When he rested his hand on my back, I let out my breath, whimpering. “You’re looking very pink,” he commented. “Should we stop here?”

I turned my head to look at him, and saw the question in his eyes. “It’s up to you,” I said, at last. I realized the truth of the words. Now that we’d agreed to change our life together, he would have the right to spank me, if he thought it was necessary. He could say no, or yes at will. It was scary, giving myself over to someone like that. As long as we’d been together, I’d never felt so connected to him as I did in that moment. I had to trust that he would take care of me.

“A little more, I think.”

I groaned, but I didn’t protest. At least, not until I felt the unforgiving wood of the spoon come down on my behind. He rapped it smartly from one thigh to the next, making me squeal. “Please,” I ground out between my teeth. “
Please
stop.”

“Not yet,” he replied, moving the spoon up, swat by swat, to the top of my burning butt. Continuing a steady rhythm, he spanked all the way back down to my thighs before he was
done. By that time, I was crying too hard to hear whether or not Jonah’s music was still playing. I was in too much pain to care.

Oliver rubbed my back, shushing gently. When I settled down, still crying, but softly, he helped me up. He kissed me on the lips and then brushed my tears away with his fingertips. “And just know, next time you won’t have
Lortab to dull the pain.”

I spluttered through my tears, and before I knew it, we were laughing together as though nothing else in the world mattered.

 

Epilogue

 

Two weeks later, Thanksgiving dawned bright and beautiful. The sky was bright blue, the sun shining brightly. The air was cool and crisp as fall leaves flew in the wind. I was filled to the brim, ready to burst with happiness. The last two weeks had been wonderful. Though I hadn’t gotten another punishment spanking since my last, every day something shifted inside of me, making room for the submissive wife that had been waiting to come out. We were growing closer by the day, and I felt like a new woman.

“Honey!” Oliver’s voice rang out. Just hearing him call me made me smile.

“Coming!” Carrying the twelve-pound turkey on a silver platter, I walked into the dining room. The doctor had seen me on Monday and given me a clean bill of health. I was as good as new—better, in fact.

The minute I was in view, Oliver rushed to my side and took the platter from me. “It looks wonderful.” He leaned over and kissed me, pulling away with a wink.

Something else that had changed was our sex life. What had once been scarce and quick had transformed. We were like teenagers all over again, unable to keep our hands off each other, and sneaking off at any opportunity. Almost as though he’d read my thoughts, as soon as he’d set the platter down my husband pulled me to him and kissed me so passionately that I felt like turning the fan on, despite the chilly air.

“Dad! Geez!”

We broke apart, laughing at Jonah’s mortified expression. Our parents were looking on fondly. Without further ado, I sat down and looked to Oliver. He asked us to join hands, and bow our hands. I reached for Jonah’s hand and squeezed as my husband began to thank God for all our blessings. My heart warmed at the sound of his voice, as much as his words. I knew he was as thankful as I was to be rediscovering each other all over again.

After everyone had eaten their first plate—and some had gone back for seconds—Oliver suggested that we go around and tell everyone what we were most thankful for. He nodded for my mom to go first, who was thankful for family. My dad followed that with “turkey”, and earned a few chuckles. When it came to Jonah, he turned me to me, smirking.

“I’m thankful for getting off restriction early,” he said.

My husband guffawed loudly. “Nice try, Buddy.”

Jonah rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem as put out as I would have expected. Even he seemed changed by the cheeriness that enveloped the house. He was thriving under his dad’s attention, because despite not being able to play video games, they were working on model airplanes together. We were all thriving under my husband’s dependable, considerate discipline.

“I’m thankful for good men,” I said, when Oliver looked to me. His eyes gleamed at me, saying more than any words he might have used.

“Ugh,” Jonah groaned, making all the adults laugh again.

“What about you, son?” my father-in-law prompted.

I locked eyes with my husband, who smiled slyly.
Please
don’t say spankings! I thought anxiously. Please. Anything but spankings.

“Wooden spoons,” he said at last. “What a wonderful invention.” There were a few puzzled glances across the table, and I could have died. “That, and my lovely wife.”

 

I was so stuffed with dressing, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie that I almost slept through my alarm. What ended up waking me was my husband, shaking my shoulder.

“Honey, go ahead and get up.”

I opened an eye to peek at him. “Hey. Thanks for waking me.” I yawned hugely, sitting up in bed. It was still dark outside, and my cell read 5:04. I had better get going if I was going to grab the new video game system we were giving Jonah for Christmas. He’d been talking about getting a
PS3 for the longest time.

“Are you going to take a shower first?”

“Um… I don’t know.” I swung my legs around the bed, putting my toes on the carpet gingerly, testing the cold. Only when I stood up and turned to Oliver for my morning kiss did I realize that he was dressed in jeans and a Christmas t-shirt. “Hey, what’s this?”

“It’s Snoopy.”

“Not the shirt!” I exclaimed, smacking his arm. “Why are you awake?”

“Does my naughty girl need a spanking this early?” he asked, swatting my behind without waiting for a response. “Do not hit me,” he scolded gently.

“Sorry.” Contritely, I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Are you wearing that to work? Don’t you have a few more hours? Get some sleep.”

“I thought I’d go with you this morning.”

I frowned at him, sure he was joking. Oliver hated shopping, and he thought that Black Friday shopping was an invention of the devil. That, or crazed wives all fighting to spend the most money. Both petrified him. “What’s up?”

“Remember when I told you that
I would make it up to you? For embarrassing you in front of Jonah?” I nodded, still uncertain. “Well, I’m making it up to you.”

Once his words registered in my foggy brain I squealed and jumped at him. He caught me in his arms easily and responded to my kisses. He pulled away long before I was ready.

“OK, now. Are we going or not?”

“Is this OK?” I asked, wringing my hands. “Are you sure.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, someone needs to be there to keep you on budget.”

I swatted him again, and ran giggling from the room as he followed in hot pursuit.

We made it to the store just before 5:40 and I was shocked at the huge lines. The store would open in twenty minutes and the line of customers waiting to get in wrapped around the building two times over.

“Wow,” Oliver said succinctly.

“Wow,” I echoed, nodding. Like the troopers we were, we piled out of the car. When we’d stood in line, Oliver suggested he run across the street to Starbucks, which was open in honor of Black Friday, and the hundreds of patrons they could expect.

“I’ll get you a hot chocolate and be right back,” he suggested.

“Mmm, sounds wonderful,” I agreed, leaning in for a kiss. My husband took me in his arms and kissed me. After a moment, I broke the kiss and leaned toward his ear. “And after this I have
big
plans for that pretty lingerie I never got to wear.”

He grunted, but I could see the longing in the depths of his eyes. He kissed me again, hard, before saying, “Be right back.”

I waved him off, and jammed my hands in my pockets to protect them from the cold. Just as I was thinking about the piles of dishes there were to wash, and wondering if there was any leftover pumpkin pie, I saw a couple come trudging behind me. I wouldn’t have paid them any attention, except for the fact the guy’s face was so mutinous. Clearly, he’d been dragged here against his will. His wife looked absolutely miserable. I tried to go back to my thoughts, but I couldn’t help but overhear them arguing.

“I wish you could have a better attitude about this,” she was saying, her voice low and pleading. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Easy for you to say,” he snapped.


Dean, please, can’t we just try to have fun?”

“What kind of fun is it, having to get up at dawn just because we can’t afford to go to the store during the normal hours?”

“Honey…”

My heart ached from the sadness I could hear in her voice. I moved forward, trying to stay out of earshot. It felt wrong somehow, to eavesdrop on someone else’s misery. That used to be us, I couldn’t help but think. That used to be us. I’d always thought that we had a good marriage, but now—now! I saw how very much we’d been missing, even if we hadn’t known it at the time. This closeness that we enjoyed, this renewed intimacy… there was nothing in the world that could equal it. And I’d thought that turning forty would be so bad! Now, each day I woke up looking forward to another new day, age be damned.

And to think, I thought, a smile playing on the corners of my lips, if I’d never found that gray hair, none of this would have happened. It had been the best thing that had ever happened to me.

 

 

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BOOK: Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband)
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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