Ginger Up

by Rayanna Jamison

  “It seems to me,” he began, concentrating on reddening the crease between her thighs and bottom cheeks, “that we’ve been doing things your way for much too long. I’ve let you be in charge of everything, even this.”

  He paused, letting his words sink in. Ginger fought back tears against the pain of the spanking and the truthfulness of his lecture. She had even controlled the way he took control. Shame filled her, and the tears fell hot against her cheeks. And yet even through her embarrassment over the position she was in, there was a sense of peace and relief. Had she been pushing for this to happen, secretly wishing that he would take charge, and get her under control since she hadn’t seemed to be able to?

  “I think,” he continued, his tone decisive, “that it’s time we started doing things my way.”

  Even with his finger still wedged in between her ass cheeks, and her bottom throbbing from the unexpected morning spanking, Ginger felt the familiar waves of panic rise up in her chest. Her heart was pounding, and her face was flushed, and she was fighting an overwhelming urge to scream and cry. But beyond that, she felt something new and unexpected. It almost seemed surreal, as if her brain was refusing to connect the two things, but her body was betraying her. Beau’s newfound dominance was making her ache with arousal. It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t as if Beau had never been dominant before, in his own quiet way, but it had never had this effect on her. Annoyed, she told herself it must be due to the early hour, and her half asleep state. Even as she told herself this, she knew it was a lie. She was fully awake now.

  “I want you to say it, Ginger. Say, from now on we will do things my way.”

  God. She nearly creamed herself with every bossy thing that came out of his mouth. She was panting with need. “We will do things your way from now on,” she told him, nearly choking on the words.

  “Sir,” he reminded her.

  “We will do things your way from now on, Sir,” she corrected breathlessly.

  “Good. Very good.” He carefully removed his finger from her bottom hole, and patted her bottom, helping her rise off his lap. She was limp and her legs felt like Jello as she swayed in his arms.

  He held her tightly and kissed the top of her head. “Now, you are going to take a shower, and I am going to get cleaned up for work.”

  She nodded her agreement, eager to obey.

  “Don’t be long, Hazel will be waking up soon,” he reminded her, exiting the room and making his way downstairs.

  Chapter Five

  When Ginger came out of the shower, Beau was gone, and Hazel was still sleeping. She had lingered in the shower, trying to process her feelings over the morning’s events.

  She should be furious. She wanted to be furious at him. After all, they were on a break, and the only person who should be able to call that off in her mind, was her. Beau had made a pretty strong case, and she knew he was right about the way things were going lately. She never would have ended the break, and she would have continued to push and poke and taunt him over it, just as she had been doing. She knew it was stupid, and immature, and she absolutely hated herself when she was doing it.

  And then, there was the way her insides had turned to mush when he lifted her from the bed and flipped her over his knee. The submissive longings that she felt when he questioned her with his finger pumping in her ass, and the fact that even now, she still was turned on by the way he had spoken to her. Beau had gently accused her of pushing him for a reaction, and she realized now that he had been right. Even if she hadn’t been fully conscious of it at the time, she had been all but begging him for a spanking.

  That must be it, she decided. It was the only logical explanation. And logical or not, it still didn’t explain why she had wanted to jump his bones afterward and had to settle for pleasuring herself in the shower. That had never happened before. It was unnerving—to say the least. She had heard, of course, of some people being turned on by discipline, but it wasn’t for her. As far as she was concerned, discipline was for just that—helping her to become more disciplined. A spanko she was not. The whole idea of being turned on by spanking made no sense to her. If you liked it, how was it a deterrent? For her, the way she had reacted had to have been a one-time thing, and it had to do with the fact that she had been nearly half asleep when it started. It had to.

  Still shaken by the memory, she moved to the coffee pot. Coffee would help, she told herself. Coffee always helped. She was delighted to find a fresh pot ready and waiting for her. Waiting for coffee to brew was the worst thing in the world as far as she was concerned, and Beau knew it. He also knew that having her morning coffee ready and waiting for her was—as silly as it may seem—the quickest way to make her feel loved and cherished. And that’s how she felt. Until she saw the note propped up against her favorite coffee cup.

  Good morning, my darling,

  I hope your day goes better than the way it started. Although, honestly, I’m not complaining. You need to go into the restaurant today, and do the books. If Laney has not been paid by the end of the day tomorrow, you will be the one paying for it, if you get my drift.

  There’s a lasagna in the freezer, and I have a meeting after work. I should be home around five, and I will expect dinner to be ready when I get there. It’s time for things to start returning to normal around here.

  I meant what I said. From now on, we will be doing this my way. We will discuss it further this evening.

  Much Love, Beau

  She dropped the note. Just dropped it onto the kitchen floor, and stared at it in shock. Her first reaction had been that it was sweet, then embarrassed at his reference to their morning activities. Embarrassment had quickly turned to annoyance as she read over his instructions for her, and the last thing she had felt was still the most troubling of all. She was completely and utterly turned on. It seemed like it would be something straight out of a spanking romance, if she read those types of things.

  She ignored the note, leaving it where it had fallen, and made her coffee. As she sipped the sweet, warm liquid gold, she fought a war in her head. Part of her wanted to down her coffee, bundle up the baby and haul ass to the restaurant, breeze through three months’ worth of book-keeping in record time, and rush home in time to clean the house and cook a gourmet meal.

  The other part wanted to climb in bed with Hazel and spend the day watching daytime television and eating junk food, just to see what would happen when Beau got home.

  She didn’t know which was crazier: that him talking to her like that made her want to rush to obey, or that it made her wet just thinking about what could happen if she didn’t.

  Thankfully, Hazel started crying and she was saved from having to think about it.

  In the end, Laney called, and Ginger ended up going in to work. But not, she told herself, because Beau had told her to.

  * * * * *

  The Ginger Paddle was busy when she got there, showing up right at the beginning of the lunch rush probably hadn’t been the best idea. Everyone was there, and everyone wanted to stop and talk to her, and of course, everyone wanted to hold the baby.

  She passed her off to Jonathan, who was there having lunch with Brent and some prospective residents, and she felt okay smiling and making small talk for a while, but the noise and crowd quickly became overwhelming.

  When Carol Bentley came in, with Erin Cunningham, Jen Harcourt and Sierra Toms, they immediately made a beeline for Jonathan, who was still obliviously bouncing Hazel up and down on his hip. Ginger saw them coming, but Jonathan did not. Between the four of them, they had a handful of kids, and when Ginger looked at them, all she saw were germs. All of a sudden, the small lunch crowd might as well have been a jam packed rock concert. Faces and colors started to swim before her eyes, and she knew she had to get out of there, but the door was blocked from the line. Grabbing Hazel from Jonathan’s arms, she quickly made a beeline for the back, all but running into her office.

  She heard through the fuzzy haze in her brain, over t
he loud buzz of constant raucous chatter, Laney and Jonathan calling after her, but she couldn’t stop to answer them.

  She slammed her office door shut and fell against it panting. Oh, god, her chest felt as if it were on fire, and she could hardly breathe. Her office was dark and quiet, but she still heard the buzzing and saw lights spinning around her.

  Clutching her daughter to her chest, she concentrated on getting her breathing under control. “It’s okay, baby, we’re okay, everything’s fine,” she wheezed, talking more to herself than to Hazel. Hazel of course was unfazed by the whole thing, smiling her gummy smile and chattering away as Ginger tried every trick she could think of to get the spinning and ringing to stop.

  “Ginger?” Laney called from outside the door. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, everything’s fine!” Ginger cried, hoping her cousin would leave well enough alone. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, didn’t want them to know how horribly she was dealing with the smallest of things these days.

  “Oh good, I just wanted to apologize for—” Laney opened the door and stopped short. “Ginger, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Oh my god, you’re all sweaty! Why are you breathing funny?”

  I’m fine, I just…need a minute. I’ll be okay,” Ginger tried to reassure her, but her voice sounded funny even to her.

  Laney eyed her critically, stepping forward to take Hazel from her. Ginger let her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to call Beau? Or Dr. Devon?”

  “No!” She hadn’t meant to shout it, but she really didn’t want anyone knowing about these problems she was having. She was sure that coming in during the lunch rush had been the cause of it, and that it was just a case of too much too soon. Surely she was just overwhelmed. What new mother wouldn’t be?

  “I’m fine,” she assured her cousin once more. Her breathing was almost normal now, and the vise-like pain in her chest had seized. “I just want to get the stuff for the books, the invoices and such. Would you mind if I just took these things home with me and worked on it there?”

  Laney nodded slowly, still looking at her strangely. “That’s fine. I’m going to go back to work now, are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Stop asking me that! I’m fine! I just wasn’t expecting it to be so busy in here!” Ginger snatched Hazel from Laney’s arms and started gathering up folders and files. “There’s no way I could get anything done with all this noise.”

  “Well, you did come in during—” Ginger shot her a withering glare, and Laney backed off, putting her hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’m going now.” She left thankfully, shutting the door behind her.

  It took Ginger less than five minutes to gather up everything she needed. She left through the back door.

  * * * * *

  Beau wasn’t sure what to expect when he got home after work. He half expected to see his bags packed and sitting on the front lawn. Ginger didn’t always do well with change, and the idea of other people taking control, even him, usually sent her into a tailspin.

  Whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t the scene that greeted him when he opened the door. The house was sparkling clean, the table was set and ready, and the scent of fresh garlic bread was wafting through the air. Hazel was cooing at him from her spot in her swing, and Ginger greeted him with a smile. She looked, he thought, like a vision of a perfect housewife from an old 1950s TV show. He didn’t dare say it out loud, of course.

  She looked perfect: immaculately dressed, hair perfectly coiffed, contacts in place of the glasses she wore so often lately. She stood on her tiptoes and greeted him with a kiss, taking his jacket and hanging it up for him.

  “Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?” He was only half-joking. He fully felt as if he was trapped in an episode of the Twilight Zone, and was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Ginger gave him a shy smile before looking down at her shoes. “Silly, it’s me. I just had a really good day today.”

  As far as he was concerned, it was proof positive that he had stepped through his front door and into a parallel universe.

  “I’m glad to hear that, sweetie. Did you get any of the financials done?”

  “Yup, I’m almost all caught up. I might just finish it up after dinner.”

  There it was. He frowned. “I have other plans for you after dinner. I meant what I said, and we are going to talk about it.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her soft spoken response was uncharacteristic to say the least, and he fought the urge to check her forehead to make sure she wasn’t running a fever.

  They sat down to dinner, and he continued to study her quietly throughout the meal. Dinner was almost a surreal affair for him, with the perfect meal, the happy baby, and his wife being so agreeable. It was, he reminded himself, almost the way things had been before, but only almost.

  “Tell me about the rest of your day. I see you got my note.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “What did you think about it?”

  “Oh!” Her cheeks colored instantly, and he was reminded how adorable she looked when embarrassed. “It was…different.”

  “Yes, it was,” he agreed jovially. “But you liked it didn’t you?”

  Ginger pursed her lips, and he wondered if this was where the façade ended.

  “I did.” She responded carefully, looking shocked at her own admission. “It was nice to know that before you rushed off to work that you stopped to think about me, and what I was doing. It made me feel…special.”

  Very interesting, Beau thought to himself. It wasn’t the reaction he had anticipated at all, but he was grateful for it, and he could see where she was coming from.

  “It also made me mad at first,” she admitted shyly.

  Beau nodded for her to go on.

  “It was just a very interesting day,” she continued. “It was full of a lot of surprises.”

  Indeed it was, he thought. Indeed it was.

  Ginger seemed to have nothing more to say on the subject, and Beau was happy to leave it at that for now. They finished their meal in companionable silence, the only sounds coming from Hazel babbling happily to herself from the swing.

  When they were finished, Ginger stood up and began to clear the table. Beau reached out and caught her hand with his. “Leave it, I’ll get it. You did a lot today. Go relax and spend some time with Hazel.”

  She didn’t have to be told twice, and Beau suspected she was seriously jonesing for some quiet time with their daughter. He was certainly impressed at all she had accomplished today, and even more so with her attitude. Sure, they had been practicing domestic discipline for many years, but he had never seen Ginger so…submissive.

  He needed the quiet time he got while doing the dishes, even though there weren’t many to begin with. He had a lot to think about regarding the events of the last twenty-four hours and what would come tonight. He had winged it this morning, and it had apparently turned out better than expected, but tonight he needed a plan, and he wasn’t leaving the kitchen until he had one.

  Chapter Six

  It was time. After dinner clean-up was finished, Beau had excused himself to his office, but before he had, he had given her a set of instructions to follow. They were pretty standard, and probably things she would have done anyway, feeding and bathing Hazel, putting her to bed, taking a shower, but the fact that she was doing them because her husband told her to made her all tingly down there.

  And the last request he had made, had taken her breath away. It was now nine o’ clock, the time she was supposed to be ready for him. As per his instructions, she stood in the corner of their room. And, as per his instructions, she was completely naked.

  This was new, and even as she stood there waiting for him, she struggled with her own mixed emotions. Being made to do corner time was nothing new, but the naked part was. And then there was the lack of reasoning behind it. She often found herself facing the corner before a spanking, but as far as she knew, she
had done nothing to deserve a spanking today, nor had Beau said she would be getting one. He had only said he wanted to talk.

  The idea of a spanking made her stomach do a little flip, bringing a tingle to her nether regions. Her cheeks flushed as she stood there staring at the wall, lost in her own naughty fantasies. She wasn’t sure what Beau meant for this, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t this.

  She shivered when she heard the click of the lock, signaling that Beau had entered the room. She stood still, listening to the footsteps approach until he was standing just behind her. His large hands cupped her bottom and his breath was hot on her neck.

  “Are you ready to have our talk?” he whispered.

  She nodded nervously, not knowing quite what to expect but inexplicably excited to find out.

  He took ahold of her shoulders and turned her towards him. She snuggled into his embrace, burrowing her face into his chest.

  Finally, when she couldn’t stand the uncertainty for another minute, she pulled away and peered up at him. “Am I in trouble? Why do I have to be naked?”

  Beau just smiled and kissed her head. “No, sweetheart, you’re not in trouble. It’s just something new. I wanted to try to keep you in the right mindset while we have our discussion. Think of it as a reminder, or a submission exercise.”

  Submission exercise. The words were foreign to her and she mulled them over thoughtfully, wondering where her husband had gotten it from.

  Beau led her to the oversized loveseat they kept in their room for times like this. They had had many talks, and also many spankings on that loveseat.

  As she sat, she became fully aware of how fully exposed she was, and reached to the quilt hanging over the arm of the couch, meaning to cover herself with it, but Beau stopped her.