Peter Shifts My Mood

Light surrounded me, but I closed my eyes and held onto the darkness. I didn't want to wake up.

I felt a nudge next to me.

"I know you're awake. Come on, get up. Let's get some breakfast.

I looked at the clock, it said 7:30.

"Peter, I am not getting up. It's Sunday. I want to sleep in."

"You have been awake for a half an hour. You are moping again. Come on. Up. We'll go get bagels and the New York Times."

I sighed. I really wanted to be left alone. Yes I wanted to mope. I was sad. Nothing was lifting this sadness. Not a movie Not making love. I didn't want to get up. Didn't care about bagels. Didn't care about the new York times. Any other time yes. That would have been my ideal Sunday morning.

Not today.

As I lay with the covers over my head, I felt the blankets slowly being pulled down. Peter stood there his dark eyes sparkling at me. "UP" he ordered.

I laughed at him. "NO" I said just as loudly.

His eyes sparkled a little more dangerously.

"Look." I said " I know what you are doing. It is very sweet, but it's not going to happen. You can't order me out of this. Let me be. I will work it out."

He turned on his heel and left. I felt relieved. He could be more than a little bossy sometimes.

I tried to sleep but couldn't, heard the door shut and the car start. Bagels and New York Times.

He wasn't giving up. Well neither was I. I took my mystery to the sun room and made tea and coffee. Tea for me. Coffee for him.

I was feeling sorry for myself, two nights ago my daughter graduated from High School and left the next day with friends for a week at the beach. I trust her and felt happy for her. Her friends are good. She has a lot of common sense.

Happy for her but for me deep sadness. I felt listless and depressed. She was going away and I was missing her already. I thought about it while I sipped coffee and looked at the trees off the patio.

About ten minutes later he returned and went into the kitchen to make the bagels. I listened to him cut them and put them in the oven. I waited for the ding but nothing happened. Curious I walked into the living room.

There was a dining room chair in the middle of the room facing the sofa. No Peter. I heard him rummaging upstairs and then saw him walk down the stairs in his jeans and tshirt. He had the riding crop in his hand.

I should explain. The riding crop was something he bought for our play. Spanking had been a turn on for me,something we experimented with a while ago, but never discussed. This was not, definitely not the time or the circumstance. I was legitimately sad. I did not need this.

But Pete had that look in his eye. I would not let it scare me. I was prepared to stand my ground. I am no shrinking violet and I was sad enough to shift into anger quickly. He would not be prepared for what I was about to say.

When I am angry, I sometimes assume rationality and going on the offense is the best strategy. I was forgetting it was the worst strategy for Peter.

I asked "what are you doing?"

He said "you are forgetting your gratitude discipline".

The word discipline rankled. There's something frightening about someone standing in front of you with an object of pain and saying discipline.

"Peter. This was something I started for myself. It has nothing to do with you".

Even as I said these words, I knew it was the worst thing to say. I saw myself goading him on. 'Why am I doing this?' I asked myself.

I tried again.

"Honey. I did not mean to snap." His eyebrow lifted. 'oh shit' I thought, this does not look good.

"Look, I know I am not doing what I should but please, don't do this. I will work it out on my own. I promise. Really."

It did not help that my voice squeaked while I said 'really'.

"You are not working it out. " He replied .

"You are sulking."

Sulking? I felt this rise of anger inside. Sulking. My baby was leaving home. Not allowed to sulk. This is not carrying on over a bad haircut. This is serious. I wanted to slam something down hard and fast. I wanted to grab that riding crop and hit his arm. But I knew how foolish that was and besides I could not bring myself to look at it as though by not seeing it what was likely to happen next wouldn't.

I think if he started to yell or force me that would have been it. But he did neither, he undercut by talking sympathetically to me.

"I know you are upset and sad. That is very natural. But you are locking yourself away. " Tears started to blur my eyes. I thought

" Fuck it and fuck him." And all the pain rose to the surface. I started to turn away and walk toward the bathroom. I felt angry and unsettled. As I passed by him, he reached out for my arm and I shook him loose.

His reaction was quick: he grabbed me and lifted me up off the floor and in one quick move I landed on my stomach over his knee. I put my hands on his legs and pushed up and at the same time swiveled my hips to the side. I was halfway up when he grabbed my arms and pulled me back down lifting one leg over mine.

I was pinned on his lap. With his free hand he pulled my pj bottoms down and began smacking my bottom hard with his open palm. I fought at first, kicking and grunting but inside I was shaking. And outside, well he is taller, stronger and his sharp smacks hurt. Slap after slap landed on my bottom. At first I was shocked. I was very quiet, just sort of feeling everything and not sure of what to do.

" You will thank me for each slap" he ordered.

Bullshit.

"Don't hold your fucking breath." I answered through gritted teeth.

He slapped me about ten more times. Then he did what really put me over the edge. He talked softly to me. He told me I was hiding from him and creating depression for myself. It was true. He rubbed my bottom as he talked. He told me what a good mother I was and that he knew it would be difficult for me when she left, but that we had a long time of learning how to live without kids at home. He told me that he loved me deeply and he would not let me turn the sweetness of being a good mother into an excuse for depression.

Then he picked up the crop and it lashed across the middle of my bottom, and then more across the bottom where the thighs meet the rounded part. They really hurt and I started crying. Something broke inside me.

All the sadness surfaced and when the crop began on my thighs, I suddenly I realized wetness was flowing down my legs. He stopped and caressed me gently. I think he started slapping my bottom again.

He said "honey. I won't stop until you thank me." I was so past fear. So past denial. I was somewhere between pain and ecstasy. I sighed. And I started thanking him. I thanked him a few times and then I think I was crying. And it was so hot. I wanted him to hold me and I knew he wouldn't unless I thanked him. And I loved his strength. I heard the wisdom in what he said. I was still hurting, but I was letting it out and it felt good to do that.

He lightened the intensity and let go of my hands. I felt him reaching for something in his pocket and was totally surprised when he pulled out the little vibrator.

He began varying the smacks and the vibration.

"Spread your legs" he said "but don't come".

At the word "come" I exploded and he chuckled. He rubbed my bottom and then lifted me up and kissed me and plopped me in the corner.

"Stay there" He said. He lifted up my hands and placed them on the wall. "Don't move." He returned with the camera. He took a picture of my butt and then showed it to me. I was shocked to see my bottom red and covered with crop marks. As I held it in my hands, he whispered in my year

"thank me". I turned and started to unbuckle his jeans. He chuckled

"Not yet, thank me for the spanking and thank me for the crop". His dark eyes dared me to defy him and at the same time sparkled with love. He was so hot. I could not resist him.

I whispered "thank you my love for this beautiful, hard, hurting spanking and for the crop. I will be enjoying this for a while."

He laughed and dragged the chair over. He dropped his jeans and sat in it and pulled me to him. I was still sopping wet and he slid in so easily. He and I moved me up and down, I was so wet and he was so hard. My breath quickened as did his. I could fee him close and he lifted me up.

"Not yet" he whispered. He stood up and turned me around so my head was bent over the back of the chair and he entered me from behind, fucking my pussy and then he pulled out and put his hard hard dick in my ass. He leaned over and pinched my clit. I about screamed.

"Now come!" He ordered.

I obliged and so did he. The sounds of our ecstasy filled our empty house. I was limp and so was he. His hips against my sore behind hurt and were so hot at the same time. He slipped out and helped me stand and I slipped my arms around him, and he surrounded me. It was heaven. "My sweet woman" he whispered "I love you in each moment. I am difficult and I am hard with you, but I will always love you deeply."