“But you’ve seriously not ever, until recently, been turned on by spanking? At all, ever?”
“No, of course not. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just confused. So, why do you do it, spanking, I mean?”
“To help our marriage, and to have tangible consequences that help make me into a better person. Isn’t that why you do it?”
Laney frowned. “Are you serious? Ginger, you have to know that I am like, a major spanko.”
“What, really?” Ginger felt as if she were about to cry. This conversation was not going at all the way she had imagined.
“Of course, almost everyone here is in some way or another.”
She was shocked, there was no other word for it. “So, you mean…everyone here is kinky?” Laney laughed at her, and Ginger realized she had made kinky sound like a bad word. “But if they like it, then how does it help them?”
“That,” Laney said with a wink as she stole a slice of the spanko roll off Ginger’s plate, “is one of life’s great mysteries.”
* * * * *
Not having an answer to her current dilemma was setting Ginger on edge. Had she really been the only non-spanko in Corbin’s Bend? Laney hadn’t been able to believe that she had chosen a domestic discipline lifestyle simply for the added discipline.
That’s exactly how she had seen it, simply another way to have self-control. Beau helped her control her control issues. When she thought about it now, she realized how ridiculous it had been. Even then, she had to have control over how much control he had.
And now, she had essentially given up all power completely to her husband, and she felt more at peace than ever. To her analytical mind, the whole thing was a big mess, a total mind-fuck.
She wanted to undo all the changes of the last six months and go back to who she was before. Self-sufficient, confident, and capable of it all. The perfect home-maker, the perfect business owner, and the perfect wife. But she wasn’t that person anymore, and she had no idea how to get her back. It felt like she had gone to the hospital one person, and come back an indecisive, anxiety-ridden, shell of herself. And kinky, to boot.
The worst part now was that she liked it. She loved the freedom of knowing what to do each day, and not worrying that she wouldn’t get it all done, or spend hours worrying about what to do first, and how much she could manage to do while Hazel napped, or whether to cook dinner or take a nap with her. Each and every decision had been an agonizing one that had resulted in her burying her head in the sand and doing none of it. And then, hating herself because nothing was getting done. It had been a vicious circle, and she was thankful to be rid of it.
And the spankings! They were glorious. Laney had assured her that she only felt that way because she hadn’t been in any serious trouble, and that spanko or not, a punishment spanking was a whole different ball game. It felt crazy, but she almost couldn’t wait to find out. For the smallest minute, she had even contemplated doing something naughty so that Beau would have to punish her. She had come to her senses, but still the thought of being bent over his knee, or over the bed, and spanked hard had her walking around in a constant semi aroused state. Ginger had never seen this side of her husband before, and she honestly thought she couldn’t get enough of it.
If she didn’t know better, she would swear they had performed a lobotomy on her at the hospital. She had even said as much to Laney, who had just laughed, and winked and made some comment about pregnancy changing your body’s chemistry in weird ways. Though, she admitted, she had never heard of it changing a non-spanko into a spanko!
Ginger was still musing over the strangeness of it all when she heard Beau’s key click in the lock. Her stomach gave a jump as his tall lean frame filled the doorway.
“Hi, honey.” Beau dropped his jacket and briefcase in the doorway and walked over, greeting her with a kiss. “How was your day?”
Long. Confusing. Productive. Frustrating. A dozen possible answers formed, but what she said was, “Fine.”
“Hmmm.” Beau was looking at her strangely. “Did you finish your list?”
“Yes,” she replied testily. She didn’t know if she was annoyed that she was checking up on her, or that she had indeed finished it.
“I see.” Was it her imagination, or did Beau look a little disappointed as well? “Did you go into work? Give Laney her check?”
“Yes, and yes.” She had, she told herself, fighting off a twinge of guilt, gone into work. She just hadn’t done any work, but she had been there. Besides, she reasoned silently, I would have done work if there had been any to do.
“How was Hazel? Did you take her with you? Everything go okay with that?” Beau continued to question her.
“Yes,” she assured him with a smile. “Everything was fine. Hazel was a perfect angel.”
“Okay, good.” Beau seemed a little on edge himself. “Is dinner almost ready?”
“Yes! About twenty more minutes! Now will you quit with the twenty questions?”
Beau sighed, and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. You did good. I’m proud of you. It’s just, the last few days have been incredible, and I was almost hoping I’d have a reason to spank you tonight.” He paused, as if realizing how terrible that sounded. “I’m sorry, again. That’s terrible of me.”
Ginger stifled a laugh. “No. Don’t.” She put her hand up to stop him. “I’ve been thinking the same thing all day. I almost went back and undid my own work!” She guffawed loudly. “Seriously, Beau, what is wrong with me? With us?”
His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the floor. “There’s nothing wrong with us. We’re just making up for lost time.”
“I guess,” she muttered into his chest, feeling unsure.
Beau set her down gently and took her face in his hands, looking at her intently. It took all her strength to meet his gaze.
“Maintenance tonight.” His voice was decisive, and full of finality.
Ginger gasped softly. “But it’s not Monday!” They had always done maintenance on Mondays.
“No, it’s not Monday. But that’s the beauty of our new arrangement. We can, and will, make changes. Seven years is a long time to do things exactly the same way.”
Her mouth formed a little “o” of surprise, not quite sure how to process this information. She liked schedules, and predictability. Monday maintenance was something she had always been able to count on, like clockwork, and knowing it was coming up had always been comforting to her. She feared without a plan, she would spiral out of control mid-week.
Beau just smiled at her as if he were reading her mind. “It will be fine. It’ll keep you on your toes.” He patted her bottom with a smile before leaving the room and coming back with Hazel in tow.
Ginger couldn’t deny that the thought of a maintenance spanking tonight had curbed the anxiety that had been threatening to spill over. Just like she couldn’t deny the tingle of anticipation his announcement had sent to her private parts.
* * * * *
The evening dragged on for both of them, the sexual tension between them like static electricity in the air. Beau hoped he was doing the right thing. Ginger’s emotional state these days seemed fragile, and uneven. Although he had to admit, that this seemed to be helping. She was responding to him in a whole new way, and it was a real turn on, he hoped, for both of them.
They stumbled their way through dinner, making small talk about their days, each of them seemingly lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, it was eight, and Hazel was winding down for the evening. Ginger had been watching the clock, and as soon as the little hand hit the eight, she started for the stairs. He stopped her. “Why don’t I put her to bed this time? You can take a shower and relax. Have a glass of wine and get ready for me.”
She wanted to argue. He could see it in her face. Her mouth dropped open, and she held Hazel tight to her chest. “It’s no trouble, I can do it.”
He watched her carefully, her eyes were almost panicked as he held out his arms for their daughter.
“You do it every night. I can take care of her tonight. You go relax.” He reached out and took Hazel. She let him, grudgingly.
“Go,” he told her, pointing towards the kitchen, as he started up the stairs to the nursery, watching carefully to make sure she obeyed. He didn’t want to have to force the issue, but Hazel was his daughter too, and him putting her to bed every once in a while should be a break for Ginger, not a power struggle.
Hazel accepted the change in routine without a fuss, and was soon sleeping soundly in her crib. Beau tiptoed softly down the hall and into his bedroom where he found Ginger pacing the floor.
“Is she asleep? Did she go down okay? Do you need me to do it?”
Beau stared at her, aghast. Is this what she had been doing instead of relaxing? Pacing the floor and working herself into a tizzy, certain that he couldn’t take control of the simplest task when it came to caring for their daughter?
He was astounded to see that she looked near tears. He crossed the room to her in two long strides and gathered her into his arms, concerned. “Ginger, she’s fine. She’s asleep. Do you really think I’m that incapable of taking care of her?”
Her face fell, her lips quivering as a tear fell from the corner of her eye, leaving a black mascara streak down her cheek in its path.
“It’s not that, it’s just…Oh, Beau, I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days. Everything is a mess, and my moods are all over the place.”
Beau’s chest tightened in concern. Had he missed something big? He had chalked it all up to the stress and her control issues. Was it bigger than that?
“Honey, do you think, maybe, you could be having too much trouble adjusting? Do we need to make an appointment? Maybe get you in to see Marcus?”
“No!” she cried, her hand flying up to cover her mouth before correcting herself. “I mean, no, no, I’m fine. I’ll work on it, I promise.”
Beau wasn’t convinced. She must have seen that, because she started pleading with him.
“Beau, really, I’m fine, and this? This new thing you’re doing? It’s helping, it really is. I just got worried for a moment. And jealous, maybe. I love taking care of Hazel, and I want to do it all myself. I’ll work on it, I swear. Please, Beau, I’m sorry. Can we just move on from it? Will you spank me now?” Her tears had stopped, but her lip quivered as she asked the last question, and she looked so sweet and submissive, he couldn’t have said no if he wanted to.
He didn’t want to. He was so hard that wearing pants was painful, a fact he planned to rectify as soon as possible. He stared intently into her eyes. The nervousness and fear that had been there only minutes before were gone, having been replaced with what could only be described as pure desire and anticipation of what was to come.
He swallowed thickly past the lump lodged in his throat. “Are you sure?”
She gave a quick nod of her head, looking straight into his eyes, waiting for instruction.
“Take off your clothes.” He quickly shed his own until all he had on was a t-shirt and boxers. Ginger did the same, shedding clothing until she stood before him in only her bra and panties.
She licked her lips nervously. “Where do you want me?”
He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap, gesturing to her that this would be an otk meeting. She quickly made her way over to him and let him guide her into position across his lap. Her whole body shivered, delicious little tremors that spelled out her need for him and for his correction. They had done maintenance hundreds of times before, but this time felt different.
In the past, there had always been a lecture, and it usually began with her learning to control her temper and ended with her need to relax, and not take her stress out on everyone around her. This time, he didn’t speak at all.
This spanking was a ritual, a clear defining of their new roles, and no words were needed. His hand did all the talking for him, each swat slow and deliberate. He took great pleasure in the slap of skin against skin, and the way her bottom flattened and bounced under his palm as her white skin began to glow pink from his correction. It wasn’t a hard spanking, or a terribly serious one. Its main goal being to remind and reconnect. He carefully and methodically peppered her backside with stinging spanks with his flattened hand until every inch from dimple to the tops of her thighs were a perfect shade of pink, and he could feel the heat radiating off her fleshy globes. He paid careful attention to her sit spots, the crease where bottom met thigh. He wanted them to be considerably more stingy than the rest of her bottom tomorrow, so she would think of him every time she sat down.
Ginger was also silent throughout the spanking, save for a few low cries when he struck her most tender spots. She lay flat against his lap, occasionally pushing her bottom towards him to signal her need for more. He would give her exactly what she needed. Nothing more, and nothing less.
When her backside was tinged a dark pink, and quiet tears began to stain his slacks, he knew they were finally through. He pulled her up and into his arms, and when she was thoroughly comforted by his embrace, he began to comfort her in other, more inventive ways.
Chapter Eight
In the weeks that followed, Ginger developed a routine that worked nicely with the new rules that Beau had put into place. She got up early and got ready before Hazel was even awake. She had figured out if she started her day early enough, she could go in to work while the place was still closed for business and get at least an hour of work in, sometimes two, before they opened up for lunch. It gave Laney a little bit of extra time in the morning for wedding related stuff, and kept her from having to deal with the crowds or the general public. Her work had always been the behind the scenes stuff anyways. She filed invoices, and paid suppliers, did payroll, and took inventory. It didn’t matter when it got done, as long as it got done, and Beau was none the wiser as to the reason why. She was always home by eleven, just in time for a quick nap with Hazel before starting on whatever tasks Beau had given her for the day.
As much as she hated to admit it, their new way of doing DD had gone a long way towards easing the anxiety she had been having. Having a set list of things to tackle each day was keeping her from feeling too overwhelmed by the reality of motherhood. More often than not, she was able to accomplish a lot more than what was expected of her, and if she didn’t, she wasn’t wasting time and energy beating herself up over it.
The panic attacks, as she was now willing to admit that that is what they were, were coming few and far between, often happening in the mornings when she had to go in to work. As she was usually alone, no one knew about them, and they had been more anxiety attacks than full-fledged panic attacks, anyway. A few times, she had felt an attack bubbling just below the surface, but when she was home, Beau watched her like a hawk and seemed very in tune to her emotions, often doing or saying just the right thing to help her feel like a normal person again, and the panic would pass without ever fully coming to the surface.
It was amazing to her, the ways that her husband had stepped up and taken the lead in their home, given half a chance. He seemed to know just when to push her harder, and when to give her a break. Beau was excellent at reading her signals, and knowing when a spanking was needed, or when something else would do. It was a shame, she realized, that she had never given him enough credit or trust to truly submit, until now. Her husband was proving to be an excellent HoH.
And inventive too, often finding some way to cool her off before it ever got to a point where a spanking was needed. Not that they were lacking in spankings. They had both discovered a new love for an activity that up until now, had only served one purpose. Maintenance spankings, reminder spankings, and funishment spankings were plenty, though she still had yet to experience a true discipline spanking, now that she had crossed over to the spanko side, she thought with a giggle.
Today was Saturday, and she had a break from going in
to the shop. Beau had gone out to run errands, leaving her and Hazel home to their own devices. The day loomed long and open in front of her, filled with possibility.
She tinkered around the house for a while, straightening up around her without doing any real strenuous housework, and made an early lunch for her and Hazel. She had just settled down to rock Hazel to sleep and watch a movie on Netflix, when her phone rang. A quick glance at the screen told her it was Laney calling from the shop. She frowned. Laney wasn’t supposed to be working today. She had gone with Josiah to visit his family. It was a long trip, and they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night.
“Hello? Laney?”
“Ginger, it’s Amber.” Amber was a young newcomer they had hired when she had gone on maternity leave. Fresh out of college, the Japanese American woman had a degree in business management, but thanks to her upbringing, she was also a master sushi chef.
“Amber, what’s up?” Ginger was instantly on guard. The voice on the other end of the line sounded panicked.
“There’s a ton of people here, at least fifty. It’s like, an anniversary or something. I’m not really sure, but there’s no way I can handle this all by myself. I can’t make the sushi and deal with everyone at the same time. You have to come in! I’m really sorry, I don’t know what else to do!”
Ginger had a moment of panic, her eyes darting around the room as she thought frantically, hoping for an alternative but finding none. She was terrible at making sushi but at least she could work the cash register and serve people, and do whatever else Amber needed her to do.
“Okay, don’t panic. I’ll be right there.” She hung up the phone and frowned at Hazel. “I don’t know where Daddy is, but I can’t take you with me.”
Seeing no other options, she placed a call to her mentor, Rose Rolson, who had been itching for a chance to babysit.
Ginger Up Page 6
