Sitting on the couch, waiting. I knew something was coming, but I wasn't sure what. I was bad, and my husband knew. He wasn't going to let it go. I wasn't really worried... he's usually not very strict with me; he loves me too much. I'm so grateful that he's forgiving and patient, but this time I wondered if I've gone too far. He's been gone for a week, and sometimes I get horny, but I don't want to pester him. When we talked, I didn't want to burden him with it, so I had watched some porn earlier in the afternoon and got myself off. 2 counts against me. I suppose I could've kept my mouth shut, but I felt so guilty. He's so perfect, I can't lie to him. So I told on myself. He didn't get mad at me, he understood that I got lonely and needed release, but he was displeased that I didn't ask first. I hated myself for it. I wished he would get mad, I deserved it. I felt dirty. All he did was say he doesn't like it, and that he thinks he has a way to fix the problem, at least temporarily. I was all for it, I hated being a disappointment.
He had asked me to be waiting, standing by the door when he got home, so I was listening intently. I heard him fumble at the door handle and I jumped, running to the kitchen and standing where he'd told me. The door opened and he came in, setting his things down and freeing up his hands before he turned to look at me. He was smiling, and I saw him sneakily push a grocery bag behind him with his foot. I raised an eyebrow quizzically, and he just shook his head, indicating I wasn't to ask questions. He held out his arms invitingly.
"Hello Love." I slipped into his arms and hugged him tightly. I'd missed him so much, I didn't even care that he smelled like he'd been working or that his hair was a mess. The scraggly overgrowth on his cheeks and untrimmed beard reminded me how long it's been since I'd seen him, and the tightness with which he held my slightly bulging frame showed me he'd missed me too. I grunt as he squeezes just a bit too tight, and he releases, looking down at my belly and smiling. "You taking care of my little boy in there? I think you've grown a bit."
"Yes, I think so too... he's been missing his daddy though. Gave me an awful backache this morning."
Concern flashed briefly across his handsome face. "You okay now? I don't wanna hurt you... badly."
Alarms went off in my head. 'Badly?' I thought. A shiver ran down my spine and our eyes met. "No, I'm fine now. Why?"
A slight grin tugged at the corner of his lip. "You've broken the rules Love. Did you think I'd forget?"
My heart skipped several beats when he gently ran his thumb across my jawline, the other four fingers wrapping firmly behind my neck and holding my body in place. I can feel the strength in them, and every hair on my body is standing on end. "No, I guess not." I replied lamely, dropping my eyes to look at a random stain on his bright green work shirt.
"That's right, I haven't. And do you remember what I told you?"
"That you're not mad, and you think you know how to fix the problem." My breath was shallow, and despite myself I could feel my nipples start to harden and my crotch getting slick with arousal. We've played around quite a bit with Dominance and submission, so we are by no means new to it, and it's always pretty clear when a scene begins and ends. Him speaking to me in this manner was a very clear request of my consent.
He's a very loving Dom, and sometimes I don't feel I deserve him. But other times I wonder what it would be like to really be afraid for once. Knowing that obedience really was the better choice. Sometimes I just want to act up and test him, but it seems impossible to make him angry. He knows I'm a brat, but instead of breaking me, he simply waits until I do as I'm told most times.
"Yes. Look at me." His hand slid forward until his fingers could grasp my throat, then he tightened them ever so slightly, reminding me that he could make it much worse if he chose. I lifted my eyes to his, and my legs turned to jelly as I saw that, while his face was stern, those beautiful green eyes were absolutely burning with lust. I reached out and putting both my hands on his chest, feeling his nipples beneath his shirt.
It only lasted for a split second before the pressure on my neck ceased, only to be applied to my arms as he roughly gripped my wrists and yanked them away from his body, forcing me back hard against the front door, pinning me hard and knocking the breath out of me.
"What the hell do you think you are doing, Bitch?"
My breath hitched again and I stared at his face in disbelief, my eyes widening as I realized what he really had in mind for the night. I remained silent, breathing heavily and staring at that irresistible face, begging him to take me with my eyes. I wriggled my wrists, trying to free them. He noticed instantly, and his face deepened into a scowl. Lifting up my arms, he crossed my left wrist over the right one, and gripped both securely with his big, strong left hand, keeping me pinned to the door. A moment later, a sting erupted over the left side of my face as he slapped me. It hurt, but only enough to shock me. "Answer me!"
"I...I just wanted to touch you!" I managed to squeak out, still recovering from the slap.
"You know better. When you're in trouble, you don't get to touch." His now free hand wandered to my shoulder, pushing my sleeve down slightly so my bra strap showed. It was my lacy grey one with the removable straps. He nodded with approval before saying. "I am going to shower. You are going to wear the shirt I bought you. Put it on, with your grey pants that I like. The paint stained ones. No underwear. Keep that bra. Sit on the couch and wait for me. Did you shower like I told you to?"
My mind raced. He had texted me 30 minutes before coming home and asked if I would wash myself and shave everything, except the small strip of hair I always leave on my crotch. I didn't think much of it, but I was surprised he didn't want me to wait for him to get home. Now it all made sense. He had been planning this. "Yes, of course. You asked me to."
"Good girl. Do as you're told. NOW." He let go of my hands and let them drop, gripping my shoulder tightly before releasing me entirely and stepping back. He reached into his grocery bag and pulled out a thin white tank top, probably from a $3 rack at Walmart. I took it obediently and went towards the bedroom to change. As I passed, he grabbed and squeezed my ass, hard enough to make me gasp slightly as the muscle twitched in protest. I knew better than to look back at him, and continued on my way. As I changed, I could hear his trimmers buzzing, followed by the sink running as he brushed his teeth and shaved off the stubble from the week. Then the shower water. By this time I had finished dressing and sat on the couch. I was dying to know what else was in the mysterious bag, but I also knew that it would not go well if he caught me peeking, so I refrained.
It felt like an eternity before he finally stepped out of the bathroom, and to my utter dismay, he had his towel wrapped around his waist, covering his package. He quickly strode across the room, grabbed his bag, turned, and went into the bedroom and shut the door before I could say anything. I wiggled uncomfortably for a few more minutes, listening and hearing the rattle and clink of our bondage gear and the rattle of the plastic bag.
Finally, the door opened. He was dressed again, jeans and a cowboy shirt, and he had the mysterious bag still in tow. He walked into the kitchen again, looking at me lustily. "Come here." I obeyed without hesitation this time. I stood where he pointed, eyes searching his face for some hint or clue of his emotions. He was stoic, stern, unwavering. He eyed me hungrily, scanning to see if I'd followed instructions, and smiling at the snug fit of the shirt he'd bought. It clung to my every curve and was very slightly see through, and clearly he was pleased. "Here's how this is going to go. You have been a bad girl, and you need to be taught better. You may fight back, but understand that there will be consequences for your disobedience. I am not angry with you, but I do not want you to forget this. You do not speak unless I ask you a direct question. If you do, you will be punished. The exception to this is your safewords. Do you know them?"
I try to contain my excitement as I reply; "Yes. Yellow means I am nearing my limit and would like you to move on or be more gentle. Red means everything stops."
"Good. Are you ready to begin?"