She glanced up to see him staring at her from across the room, his gaze assessing her. Oh she knew that look, and felt her stomach do a little flip. She gave him a questioning look back, her head slightly tilted up and did a small shrug. It was one of those days where she had felt off centered and slightly out of control, where every little thing made her more tense. It didn't really surprise her that he had picked up on her mood or that he was tired of it, because she was tired of it. She didn't like to be this way, especially with him.
"Why are you over there, and not by me?" His eyes dropped to the floor in front of him and then looked back at her pointedly.
She was curled up in the chair reading a book or trying to read a book. She didn't doubt for a second that he already knew why she was across the room. She gave him a shrug again, not able to help herself.
"Girl, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Now answer me properly," he warned her, his tone firm.
She loved it when he called her girl, and she wanted him to say it again. That deep longing to submit made her want to get on her knees and crawl over to him. But she was feeling too out of control to do it right now.
She tossed her book down and straightened up in the chair to look at him. "I'm sitting over here because I wanted to, and because I feel like it." She knew it was the wrong thing to say, but her mouth wasn't listening to her brain.
He pointed the remote at the tv and turned it off, the room going silent.
"Come here now, girl" His command made her want to obey instantly, it always did.
Part of her wanted to run over there and the other part wanted to say no, push him further. She knew that the consequences would be much worse if she did. Pushing up out of the chair, she walked over slowly to him.
"Kneel now girl," he ordered.
Slowly she slid to her knees, her eyes not breaking contact with his. There was no anger in his eyes, he was calm but she could see that steel that she always loved in them. Adjusting her legs, she straightened her shoulders and clasped her hands behind her back.
His foot came out to tap her legs farther apart. When he seemed satisfied with her position, he leaned back and flipped on the tv again. She wanted to protest and opened her mouth to do so, but he gave her the look and she closed it again. That was his look, the one he gave when she was treading on thin ice. For an hour she knelt there while he watched his show. Once in awhile if she fidgeted too much, he would glance at her but otherwise he seemed content to just have her kneeling there. She couldn't see the tv, so it gave her plenty of time to think about what was coming.
Finally he turned the tv off and stood. "Come girl, it seems you need to be reminded how a young lady behaves."
Her legs had gone numb from kneeling for so long, but she stood and followed him to their bedroom. An hour of kneeling had subdued her urge to be defiant and she was sincerely regretting her moodiness already.
She stopped when they reached the middle of their room and waited. He went to the closet and pulled out the tub that held all his weapons as she often called them. Why did she have to get herself into this. Why did she always forget just how badly punishment hurt. A part of her wanted it and the other part was screaming that she was such an idiot.
"Panties off," he said from over his shoulder.
She slid the panties down from under her skirt and waited for him.
He turned towards her with a small flat wooden paddle, it was similar to a hairbrush but without the bristles. She hated that paddle, it stung so badly.
Shaking her head at him, she backed up until her legs hit the padded bench at the foot of their bed. "I'm sorry, Sir. I am over my attitude now, I don't need a spanking," she said softly, a slight tremble in her voice.
He grinned at her, which was never a good sign. "I'm glad you're sorry but you're going to be even sorrier when I'm done."
Taking a seat on the bench, he moved his arm away from his lap. "Now girl!"
She closed her eyes for a second and then moved to kneel over his lap. Her hands braced on the floor, leaving her in a humiliating position.
His hands pushed her legs straight as he slid them up her thighs, pushing her skirt up over her ass to bare it to him. The feel of his hands running over her ass made her moan. She craved that skin to skin touch, craved the feeling of being over his lap because it helped her to feel like he had control. The second his hand left her, she bit her lip and braced herself.
He first slap was a sharp reminder why she usually avoided this, and he didn't stop. Every time his hand left her skin, it came back harder. It took everything she had not to beg for him to stop, but she was still feeling stubborn and didn't want to give him the satisfaction of giving in yet. She lost count of how many times his hand connected and was about to beg for it to be over, when he stopped. His hand gently rubbed over her bottom, soothing her.
She glanced back over her shoulder and saw him pick up the wooden paddle. Closing her eyes, she dreaded what was happening next. Her ass already felt like it was on fire, this was going to hurt horribly.
His left arm came down to hold her back, and she relaxed a little. Just the feel of him holding her down helped to center her. The paddle connected with her skin and it stung as badly as she remembered. Each quick swat felt like a sharp sting, and she couldn't take any longer. Without thinking, she moved her hand back to cover her ass cheek. "Please Sir, please stop," she cried out.
He stopped and his voice came out low, "Give me your hand, now."
Slowly she moved it away from her ass and up towards her back. Strong fingers wrapped around her hand, holding it firmly.
"Are you regretting your snarky attitude, girlie?"
"Yes, Sir, I'm very sorry Sir," she replied quickly and sincerely.
"Good." There was a grin in his voice, as if he was really enjoying this, and she looked over her shoulder to see that he was in fact smiling. She gritted her teeth.
"Problems?" His eyes connected with hers, telling her that he knew full well that she didn't like it.
"You don't have to enjoy it so much," she bit out.
That was the wrong thing to say.
"You. Will. Learn. Girl." The paddle connected again and again, much harder this time. She couldn't help but cry out with each swat. The more it hurt, the harder it was for her to keep still. Kicking her feet, she struggled to get away. "Please Sir, I'm so sorry."
He swung the paddle down hard on her thigh, making her cry out louder.
"Stay still, girl and stop your kicking." The humor had left his voice.
She tried very hard to stay still because getting hit in thigh was awful, it hurt so much worse.
"Please Sir, I've learned my lesson. I'm very sorry for my attitude today. Please, Sir," she pleaded with him.
He spanked her a dozen more times before it finally stopped. His hands caressed over her the reddened painful skin, helping to take the sharpness of the pain away.
"You may get up now, girl" He helped her stand, her legs were feeling weak, and instead of looking at him or sitting, she walked over and crawled up on the bed, laying on her stomach and burying her face in the blankets.
Oh girlie, you aren't done," he said from behind her.
