Brat,the observer said with an air of satisfaction that sent a shiver of fear through the rest of me.Not the day after tomorrow—or even tomorrow. Right now: you can’t help it, can you, you little…
Rick took his hand away, pulled it back from my hot, sopping wet pussy. I mewed in protest, like a kitten deprived of milk. The demure, ambitious, independent part of me couldn’t believe the sound had actually come from my mouth.
“Tell me, Dee,” Rick said, putting his hand lightly on my belly, maddeningly just above the place where I needed it. He toyed with the waistband of my panties, running his fingertips along the lacy little white scalloped border. He lowered his eyes as if to watch himself toy with me.
I bit my lip, suddenly realizing how very far I had descended into wickedness, thanks to my husband’s filthy training. I could feel how he had disarranged my panties, how their gusset lay to the side, exposing the private curls of my pussy and even the naughty pinkness of its tender cleft. I shook my head.
Moving his big hands carefully, to make certain I could stand on my own, Rick stepped back. I gave a little gasp as his hands went once again to his belt buckle.
He wants to leave me in no doubt as to his intentions, I thought.And I… I don’t want him to know what’s in my heart.I felt my face crumple, and tears form at the corners of my eyes.
“Take off your bra and your panties,” Rick said. “I’m going to whip it out of you if I have to.”
I realized that my arms had gone slightly numb—that I had forgotten about them entirely while my husband had mastered my body, except to know that I had them up and away, where he had told me to put them. The recollection of their position arrived just then because I needed them behind me, to keep myself from simply toppling backwards onto the bed with the shock of fear that went through me at Rick’s harsh words—at the words themselves and even more at the growling, hungry, aggressive tone he had said them in.
The numbness, though, meant that when I took them from behind my head and tried to put them behind me, I lost my balance completely and I would have fallen—probably not even onto the bed but instead onto the floor—if Rick hadn’t grabbed me once again. This time he put his left arm around my upper back while his right hand came behind and took firm hold of my bottom.
I ended up cradled in his arms that way, completely off the floor, with his dark eyes gazing straight into mine. Once again, I had the wonderful, frightening feeling that my husband knew me too well—that he knew how to take care of me even if I didn’t think I wanted to be taken care of that way.
More than any of the many other sensations that the almost childlike embrace sent rocketing through my body, his hand on the seat of my panties made me melt into his arms. It felt like a secret we shared a terribly naughty, terribly intimate marital secret. My husband had spanked me. My husbandwouldspank me, when he decided, the time had come to teach me a lesson.
I watched his face very closely. The animal desire there, the promise that very soon he would have his way with me entirely, whether I liked it or not, made me swallow very hard. Then, to my surprise, delight, and the tiniest bit of disappointment, I saw his face soften. Rick gathered me up toward him, far enough that he could kiss me softly on the mouth.
Then he broke the kiss, and my heart jumped as I saw the softness vanish.
“You’re not getting out of this, Amanda Williams,” he said slowly but very sternly. “I’m going to stand you up, and you’re going to take off the rest of your clothes. From now on when I punish you at home, you’ll always be naked.”
CHAPTER19
Rick
I watched Mandy’s face change from a slightly puzzled expression, as she obviously tried to figure out why I had kissed her so gently, to the look of mingled fear and defiance I had so quickly come to recognize and to appreciate. Not to love, or even really to like: my beautiful wife’s brattiness represented an issue I knew I had to deal with, rather than a quality I thought desirable in her.
I loved her, and I loved the fierce independence she had apparently kept hidden from herself for a very long time. Independence and defiance weren’t the same thing, though. Mandy and I couldn’t stay at the kind of loggerheads our honeymoon had seemed to bring us to, with her resisting me apparently just for the sake of feeling bratty and rebellious.
I coulddealwith the resistance, I knew now, after only a few hours as a New Modesty husband. I might even enjoy imposing the consequences of her rebellion, too, but the rebellion itself… I couldn’t help finding it exhausting, and a little frustrating.
No, alotfrustrating, I admitted to myself as I stood my wife up again, this time facing the bed with her back to me. I wanted to see the effect of her punishment so far. The satisfaction I got from seeing that her backside was still red from the spanking I had administered through her jeans made me aware of just how frustrating I had found her refusal to be honest—even more than her failure to obey me.
My cock leapt at the enticing sight of that taut little bottom in the adorable polka-dot panties that didn’t match her bra. The rosy hue of Mandy’s cheeks and upper thighs seemed to signify that I had begun to claim her truly as my bride, despite the strange and worrisome runaround she had given me from our wedding night until this reckoning in Rocky Falls.
“Hands on your head, Dee,” I told her. “Just like before.”
I almost decided to forget about the whipping, or at least to give her a suspended sentence when it came to the application of my belt across her bare backside. The idea of bending her over for her first proper fucking that very instant lit a fire in my veins that I found very hard to resist. Surely to pull her panties down to her knees and to plunge into that sweet pussy, riding my beautiful wife hard, using her tight little vagina for my pleasure, teaching her to give me my conjugal rights whenever I chose to fuck her… surely that would provide discipline enough, wouldn’t it?
But I sensed, somehow, just from looking at her back, at the tension in her shoulders as she sluggishly began to obey my command, that to fail to follow through on the whipping would represent a huge mistake. Maybe another girl would learn her lesson from her husband showing mercy and fucking her dominantly instead of actually disciplining her.
Not Mandy. Mandy needs to know her husband will use his belt, if he has to, to keep her in line.
If anything had proven that to me, it was that frustrating yet somehow wonderful moment when I knew my demure bride had had a dirty thought, and she had refused to speak it. I had seen in her eyes that shewantedto say it, too, but that she neededme tomakeher—that a part of her could never find fulfillment without her husband’s firm hand guiding her to obedience.
“I said, get those hands up,” I growled, starting to unfasten my jeans belt’s heavy silver buckle.
* * *
Mandy
For a moment, I told myself I had no idea why I had raised my arms so slowly and with such obvious reluctance. A split second later, though, I knew the reason, because the inmost part of me whispered a challenge.