"Julie, who was four at the time, had heard my voice from back in her room and wanted to see me. She was running out, just as Erin was heading back to the bedroom. She scooped the child up and told her that Daddy was 'too busy' to see her.
"Our son, Mark Junior, came out next, and she stopped him, too.
"I said nothing to Erin until the children in bed. It isn't proper, you see, to let them see our master/slave relationship. Once they were safely tucked in, however, I summoned her to the living room, in a stern tone. She knew at once she was in trouble.
"I began by having Erin repeat what she had said to the children. Knowing she was already in trouble, she did so promptly and accurately. She made for quite a fetching sight, her blonde hair piled on her head haphazardly, her pleasingly feminine little body clad in a pair of cut offs and one of my old flannel shirts. She was barefoot, too, and as she spoke, her little toes dug into the carpet in that same, delicious guilty way the children's did whenever they had to confess to me.
" 'And did I in fact tell you I was too busy?' I inquired of my wife.
"Erin attempted to make excuses. I snapped my fingers, ordering her to answer the question.
"She looked down at the floor. 'No,' she mumbled. 'You didn't tell me you were busy.'
"Abruptly, I ordered her to make eye contact and repeat herself. I knew how exhausted she was and how any human being could slip, myself included, but a master must be firm, like a parent. Erin depended on that, as much as she did on my income to run the household, or on the air she breathed.
"'No, you didn't tell me that,' she said, and this time, she added 'Sir.'
"'What you said, then, was not the truth, was it?' I continued, employing my best courtroom skills.
"'No, sir,' she acknowledged. Obviously, I had her now. I asked if lying was a good or bad thing.
"A bad thing," she said.
"'Good girl,' I praised, employing the most demeaning form of address possible. 'And what do we do when someone lies in our family?'
Erin was ramrod straight, eyes on me, where they belonged. She was hesitating, afraid to indict herself, though I could tell by her stiff nipples she was turned on. 'You will answer my question, young lady," I said firmly.
"Her eyes were watering a little as she replied. 'We punish them, sir.'
"'Indeed we do,' I said.
"Erin jumped immediately to the finale. "I must be punished, sir,' she said, displaying her natural feminine desire to please me.
"Excellent, Erin. And how do we punish in our family? What if I were dealing with the children?"
"I could see Erin trying to fight the analogy. She did not want to be treated as a child.
"I asked her again, giving her a warning this time.
"She pointed out that the children were sometimes spanked. I had to smile at that one. 'Yes, that is one way,' I agreed. 'What are more ways?'
"'There is standing in the corner,' she said.
"'Yes, that's another good one,' I praised her effort. 'And there are losses of privilege, too, aren't there?'
"'Yes, sir,' said my darling.
"The time had come to pass sentence. For the sake of the lesson, I included each of the suggestions made by Erin. 'To begin with, you will stand in the corner. You will remain there until your spanking. While you are there, you can think of how you will apologize to them in the morning. Is that clear?'
"'Yes, sir,' she acknowledged, the humiliation and defeat thick in her voice.'
"The one thing I had not covered was a loss of privilege. Curious, I asked Erin what privilege she thought should be taken away from her in order to satisfy the rest of her punishment.
"She gave the matter thought. "I like to read books,' she said soberly.
"'Excellent, my dear,' I smiled. 'For one whole day, you will not be permitted to read books, unless you are reading to the children. How does that sound?'
"She told me it sounded fair, and I agreed it was more than fair. At this point, I dispatched the children's barefoot mother to the corner, and had her push herself against the wall. Close enough for her to trap the penny with her nose.
"In her ear, I whispered what would happen if she let it fall. She let out a whimper, and I knew she was sexually arousal. Needless to say, she would serve me exquisitely that night in bed. I left her in her predicament for a while and went to read the newspaper and check my e-mail. When I came back to check on Erin an hour later, she was so aroused she nearly came from the sound of my voice.
"'Master,' she said throatily, her cheek and breasts and belly glued to the wall. "'I need your hand ... on my ass ... punish me, oh god.'
"'I gave her a small sample, one crisp smack to her denim clad posterior. 'To the bedroom,' I hissed in her ear. 'Wait for me.'
"She was shaking all over, her body trembling. I had to take her by the hair and help her down to the floor, down on hands and knees.
"'Crawl,' I commanded. 'Crawl like the bad girl you are, off to be punished.'
"Erin clawed at the rug. I had never seen her so possessed. As her palms and knees slid on the shag, it was like she was being transformed, becoming before my eyes a new kind of slave, deeper and more abject.
"I didn't need to tell her how to wait for me. While I took my time, sipping some brandy and smoking a cigar, my beautiful wife took off all her clothes and knelt before the bed, head to the floor.
"I came inside her three times that night, and I spanked her, too. By dawn I knew I could never love another woman, and I would never get tired of owning this one.
"Erin was glowing by morning and from that point on, we never agaom had a problem with her interactions with the children. She was excellent with them and respectful with me where they were concerned. Erin remained completely under my thumb, though I made sure the children never once doubted her authority over them. It was like we had found the rhythm we needed.
"You'll need to find your own rhythm, Robert. You and Miranda both."
Rob shifted in the booth. The story of beautiful Erin being treated as a child had given him a wicked hard-on, which was about the last thing he needed right now. "But that's just it, we have no rhythm. Hell, she's cheating on me."
Mark paused as the waitress approached. She was a redhead, trim, wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt. From the beginning, she had been fawning on Mark, as if drawn to his male energy. "Can I get you anything else, sir?" She asked him, her back straight, her chest thrust out very slightly.
Mark asked for more coffee for the both of them. She was back in a flash with the pot.
"You're very good at this," Mark praised her.
The young woman glowed at the compliment. "I learned from my mom. She's a waitress, too."
"It's a fine profession," he nodded. "Women make excellent servants."
The redhead giggled a little at this. "Better not let my Mom hear you say that. She's a feminist."
"What about you?" Mark looked at her with piercing eyes. "Are you a feminist, too?"
The girl was transfixed. Mark was not only handsome; he was a natural dominant, too. Perfectly born to appeal to whatever submissive qualities a woman might have.
"Actually, I prefer to make up my own mind about things," she said.
"Excellent." Mark sipped his freshened coffee. "I didn't catch your name," he noted.
"I'm Mallory," she smiled. "But people call me Mal."
Rob noted the contradictions, the strange, mixed signals she gave off. He could read her confidence, her assurance, but he could also pick up something in that deep, underlying current of her being that wanted to belong to someone forever.
Really, she seemed a lot like Miranda was when they first met.
"That's fine, but if you don't mind, I'll call you Mallory. It's more feminine. Tell me, Mallory, would it be all right if I asked you a couple of personal questions?"
She looked over her shoulder. "Um, I guess, since we're not too busy..."
"Good. Now you just stop me if this gets too uncomfortable,
okay?"
"Sure. By the way, I'm Mark, and this is Rob."
"Nice to meet you."
Rob nodded and mumbled hello.
"Mallory," Mark got right to the point. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, his name is Derek.
"Derek," he nodded. "All right. Can I ask now, have you and Derek had any sort of relations yet?"
She laughed nervously. "You weren't kidding about the questions being personal."
"You can refuse to answer if you like," Mark reminded.
"Actually, I don't mind telling you, I'm a virgin."
"Good girl. Are you saving yourself for marriage?"
"I guess ... or at least until I meet the right one."
"You have a very fine attitude," Mark approved. "I can see you aren't afraid to think for yourself, to have your own values about sex. Keep on being that way. Especially if anyone tells you it's wrong to let the man take control in the relationship."
"You mean when my mother says everything should be equal?"
"That's right. Because equality doesn't work for everyone."
Mallory cocked her head. "Do you think I should get Derek to be more assertive?"
Interesting, thought Rob. Mallory had jumped to that conclusion so quickly. Was it on her mind already?
"I can't tell you that, Mallory. Only you know in your heart. I can tell you, most men want to be in charge, and most women, whether they admit it or not, want to be swept off their feet."
"It would be nice to not always have to decide everything. Derek is really nice and all, but he's just so ... wimpy, sometimes. I have to make all the plans, guessing what will make him happy. Just once, it would be nice if he came up and told me."
"If that's what you want, than you have to tell him. Make it clear what you need. If he responds, he's the right man for you."
"You know this is terrible to say," she lowered her eyes. "But sometimes I catch myself provoking him, just to get a reaction. To see if he'll fight back."
"That's a pretty common thing," Mark said. "Nothing to be ashamed of. The point is; what to do now?"
"I need to tell him. Yeah," she nodded, obviously thinking out loud. "I have to tell Derek I need him to be in charge sometimes ... maybe all the time."
Mark smiled knowingly. "Sounds like you're on the right track, Mallory. Can I offer one piece of advice?"
"Anything," she gushed. "Please..."
"If you want your man to be in charge, you have to approach him like he already is. Don't dictate to him or presume to negotiate. Ask him, as humbly as you can manage."
Rob saw the outline of her swollen nipples, pushing against the material of the t-shirt.
"Humbly?" she asked, a slight rasp in her voice.
"Yes, humbly. Let him know you are a woman ready to be commanded, and worthy of commanding."
"Lord," she sighed. "I can't even believe I'm having this discussion. Honestly, I've been so confused about this. I love Derek, but it's so hard with him. And meanwhile, there's this other guy. He's not all that good or nice or anything, I know, but, well..."
"He's strong. He makes you feel like a woman," Mark finished her thought.
She blushed deeply. "It's like you're reading my mind. Yeah, this other guy, Randy, I met him here one night. He has a bike. He took me for a ride. We started kissing, way out on Lost Lake. I was almost in over my head, the way he was up under my clothes, making me do everything he wanted, but just before he could get inside my panties, I managed to say no. He got mad and told me when I was ready to stop acting like a baby, I should come and see him, and maybe he'd take me back.
"I was so mad at him, I could spit nails. But after he dropped me off home, I was ... well, I was feeling some things – sexy things. A lot of times I have thought of going to him and just giving him what he wants. That makes me a terrible person, right? A slut?"
"Not at all, Mallory. As a woman, your responses are perfectly natural. Women are meant to be wooed by strong men, men who will love, honor and protect them, and also give them strict guidance. Unfortunately, the bulk of men today are too weak from society's influences, while the remaining minority behaves abominably, abusing a woman's soft, defenseless body and spirit.
"What's a female to do? If she is a so-called good girl, she settles for an unsatisfying relationship with a eunuch. If she wants to truly be loved as a woman should, then she must risk her reputation and perhaps even her safety with a man who will use her with no regard.
"You feel caught in the middle, like any woman. You cry to yourself, you pray for a way out, but you see none."
Mallory bit her lip. Rob could see the moisture in her eyes, the deep passions. Mark was reaching her, all right. To the point where she was looking at Mark's empty ring finger. "You speak so well about all this," she said. "It's like ... it's like you can be inside me, knowing me. It's almost enough to make me want to wish ... that is, to hope ... you might be ... unattached? Oh, god," she covered her mouth. "I can't believe I just said that."
"It's okay, I'm flattered," he put her at ease. "Truly. I'm afraid, though, that I'm married. Sorry to confuse you with the lack of a ring, but I don't find it appropriate for a man to wear a bondage sign like that on his finger."
"Oh, wow." Her eyes went wide. "What about your wife? Does she wear a ring?"
"Yes, Mallory, she does."
Mallory was breathing quicker. Rob could almost see her mind at work, reaching the logical conclusions. "But you said rings are a sign of bondage..."
"They are."
"So ... your wife is in bondage, then?"
"To me, yes."
Mallory was intent, captivated. Rob doubted a bomb would break her attention. "But ... but what does that mean?"
"What do you think it means, Mallory?"
Mallory swallowed. Mark wondered if she could say the words. "She ... she can be tied up and stuff?" she said, in a near whisper.
Mark nodded. "I chain her, yes, and tie her. But that's all fairly superficial, isn't it? Even the corporal punishment is just a symbol."
"Corporal ... punishment?" she stammered.
"My wife lives under discipline, Mallory, as my servant. If she fails to please me in any way, she faces the consequences. The whip, the cane, or even a simple spanking."
"Did you say wh-whip?"
"I have an assortment, yes. Floggers, horse whips, and a bull whip. Erin's a good girl most of the time, so I rarely need anything that intense. Although I am a sadist and I will whip her for my pleasure on occasion."
"And your wife allows that?"
"She doesn't choose what will happen specifically, but we have agreed to live together this way, so she submits. This was and is her choice. And mine. I treasure and love her. I would give my life for her."
Mallory exhaled with a low whistle. "Wow, hearing you, makes me think your wife must be really, really lucky ... to be loved like that I mean."
"No more lucky than a man would be to stand as your husband, Mallory."
Mallory blushed deeply. "What about you?" She turned shamelessly to Rob. "You don't have a ring on, either. Are you single, or is your wife a ... servant, too?"
"Actually, I'm in the process of separation," he said curtly, seeking to preclude any further conversation.
Mallory looked at Mark. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," he assured her. "You're being a good girl."
Rob saw her squirm a little at the condescending compliment. "Thank you," she said, eyes lowered.
"Robert is just having trouble right now, accepting his true identity in his marriage," Mark explained.
"Oh." Mallory turned to Rob. "Does your wife accept hers?" she asked boldly.
Rob clenched his fist on the table. "I'm not going to answer that."
"Robert, don't be rude," Mark chided.
"No, she doesn't accept it," said Rob, providing the answer Mallory was due. "And I'm not sure I see it myself, either."
"His wife has been cheating on him," Mark
supplied, much to Rob's chagrin. "That's why he wants to separate."
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Mallory exclaimed. "That must hurt you so much."
The young waitress' eyes began to water up.
"Why are you crying, dear?" asked Mark.
"I'm thinking of Derek," she sniffed, quickly wiping her eyes. "I ... I cheated on him, too, and I can't tell him. He would be devastated, but I can't live with the secret, either."
"But Mallory," Mark said. "You can't take the blame all on yourself. Derek obviously neglected you. He didn't meet your needs. If I may say so, also, he obviously gave you too much freedom. More than was healthy for you."
"D-do you think so?"
"Of course, it's the same in the animal kingdom. A female roaming on her own comes into heat at the sight of any strong male. That male in turn will desire her possession. Unless the female is kept under lock and key, she will fall into all manner of trouble. Now tell me this, do you love Derek?"
"I do," said Mallory without hesitation.
"Would you accept his supremacy in your life? Would you submit to him?"
"I-I'm not sure ... I don't know what that means."
"That's a wise answer, Mallory. Clearly you have something to think about now, don't you? If and when you decide, you can go and tell Derek the truth about your cheating, and about your deep sexual needs, too."
"He'd never forgive me."
"There is one way."
"What?"
"You can beg, Mallory – for punishment."
"Me? P-punished?"
"A sound whipping, yes, or a caning. Something that will make you think twice about sitting down for a couple of days. A good half hour of agony, after which you could both wipe the slate clean."
"You ... you think that's possible?"
Mark took out his wallet, laying on the table a picture of him and Erin. "This proves it."
Mallory looked at the regal blonde, in the pearl choker and black, off the shoulder dress, her hair piled high on her head, her smile, serene and distant. Rob recognized it from last year's Christmas party.
OBEDIENTLY EVER AFTER II Page 7
