Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“How much longer?” she asked. “Please, when will it end?”
“You know when it ends. When I feel you have learned your lesson.”
“I have.” Her muffled wail made him smile, though she didn’t see it. Her face was pressed against his leg. Shame? Anger? Fear? She probably felt all those things.
“I did not think you could be so cruel,” she said as he studied her reddened arse, thinking lustful thoughts.
“It’s not cruel to teach your wife a lesson. You are learning a lesson, aren’t you?”
“Yes! I promise. Please, let me go.”
“If you’ve learned your lesson, you must show me,” he said gently. “You’re still complaining and resisting.”
He rubbed the paddle over her afflicted cheeks just to feel her tremble. Would she learn? Would she submit to him? He could go for another half hour, tormenting her without really hurting her, although she wouldn’t like it.
He sighed loud enough for her to hear him, and began again, delivering steady, crisp licks. At last, after another squirming period of resistance, she stopped fighting him so hard. She ceased kicking, and eventually went still across his lap.
Still, but not quiet. The more she accepted her punishment, the harder and louder her tears flowed, which was to be expected. Accepting punishment was different than bearing it…he could feel how hard she struggled to be good. He rewarded her compliance by putting the paddle down. Her bottom was a deep, uniform red.
He loved the sight of it, God help him.
God help her.
She’d taken a good paddling and learned something about their nascent marriage: when it came to discipline, he was in charge of how, when, and where. He was in charge of how long, based on her reactions and whether he thought his message was getting across.
“Stand up,” he said, righting her and setting her before him. “No, don’t do up your underthings or put down your skirt.” He made her gather her skirts at her waist, then turned her toward the wall with a light push.
“Go stand in the corner with your bottom exposed for a few minutes. Think over why you were punished and what you’ll do differently next time. I’ll tell you when your corner time is over.”
She gave him a tearful, somewhat baleful, glance before complying. Of course, he’d never manage to spank all the spirit out of her. He didn’t wish to.
She moved to the corner behind his desk, near the window. Now and again, she looked out at the lake as she stood, shifting from foot to foot. After a few minutes of watching her fidget, he relented. He could only admire her reddened arse cheeks so long without losing his control.
“Rearrange yourself, sweeting, and come here.”
She gingerly pulled up her pantalettes and fastened them at her waist before letting her skirts down. She dashed away the last of her tears, putting on a brave face as she walked to his side. He pulled her into his lap, holding her close. She held herself stiff at first, avoiding his gaze.
“I didn’t like that,” she said. “It was a real spanking this time, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, a real spanking.”
“I liked the playful ones better.” She shifted on her bottom. “The ones you used to give me at piano lessons.”
He stifled a smile against the top of her head. “You can have those types of spankings again, any time you like.”
“Hmph.” She shook her head, turning her face into his waistcoat. “I never want another spanking.”
“I’m sure you feel that way right now.”
He ran fingers up her back, to the bare curve of her nape, then into her smooth, black hair. A few locks of her upswept style had come loose during her spanking; he tugged one between his fingertips. She was so trusting, so sweet. If she knew the things he wanted to do to her… Her “real” spanking had barely touched the need within him.
He didn’t know how long he could hold off.
She was his wife now. He had a right to her body. So far, he’d petted her, excited her, kissed her between her trembling thighs, but to do more was to risk his careful restraint.
“Look at me,” he said, and she raised her head. “I hope you have a good visit with Rosalind later today.” He brushed aside the last traces of tears. “And I hope the two of you manage to stay out of trouble.”
“Hmph. I suppose we shan’t go on the lake.”
“You may, if you are supervised. Or, if you would like a worse paddling, you may repeat this morning’s actions. That’s entirely up to you.”
She slid off his lap with a pained exhalation and gazed into his eyes. A hint of shyness. A hint of obstinacy he hoped never disappeared, even after a thousand spankings.
“I don’t want a worse paddling,” she said. “The one I had was quite enough.”