So they did their best with the clumsy words humans had for such reverent, colossal, bone deep things, then tried to show each other instead, putting feelings and thoughts and words to deed. And one of the biggest ways that Gain showed her his love was to discipline her when he felt she needed it.
"And," he whispered gutturally against her hair, "you know that, as wonderful as that was, that it's not going to get you out of your spanking." Gain's voice was naturally so deep that his whispers sounded scary even when he didn't necessarily want them to.
He felt the shiver run through her body at his words, knowing it was not inspired by a fear of him at all, but rather a few of the punishment itself.
And she did well to fear it.
Gain hugged her to him, molding her tightly against his body from shoulder to knee - or as closely as they could get considering the disparity in their sizes - rubbing a big hand over her back. Everything he loved in this world was contained in this five foot four, hundred some odd pound package. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he adored her. He knew he didn't - and truthfully couldn't - say it often enough, but he tried to show her as best her could how he felt about her, and part of that was making sure that he followed through on what he said, whether it was just bringing home a pizza for dinner when he said he was going to, or giving her a paddling when she'd disobeyed him and bought a television that probably cost as much as their first house.
But he didn't want to. He did, but he didn't. Her punishments weren't play. He didn't give cutesy pats on the bottom when he knew what she needed was to truly regret what she'd done and learn from it. And it wasn't easy.
Luckily, she was generally very well behaved - not the type to act out due to a lack of attention, because he made sure she got the attention she needed. Heck, she was the only thing in this world he paid attention to other than their company. And if she'd just told him that she really wanted one of these things, they might have worked it out and come to an agreement to buy it. Together.
But that wasn't the mutual decision they'd made, and the only way she could have paid for the monstrosity in the foyer was if she'd either put it on a credit card or taken the money out of their savings, neither of which was supposed to be done with anything less than mutual consent.
So he was going to spank her, good and hard. But that didn't mean that he had to like doing it.
And therein lay the hitch.
Intellectually, he hated to hurt her. In fact, he'd spent all of his life trying to make sure that she didn't get hurt, yet here he was, sitting up against the headboard. It nearly killed him to do it, and he had to do a certain amount of psyching himself up in order to actually go through with the act.
He could see her crestfallen look, as if she'd really bought into the idea that she could use sex to wheedle out of a punishment that she knew well and good she had coming, and his lips were tugged into a reluctant grin as he pulled her over his lap and slid her elastic waist shorts and panties just to the tops of her knees. Generally, he didn't find anything amusing about these punishments at all.
But his body loved it. How could it not? She was practically naked - except for her shirt and bra - and covered a part of his body that wanted her the most. But it wasn't just her close proximity, he was afraid. It was the spanking itself, which he purported to hate.
He reached over her to grab the paddle, putting it next to her head so that she could see and dread it as he gave her a warm up spanking.
He knew that some of it was the physical intimacy, but that the majority of it was the psychological intimacy, and frankly, the power. The idea that this grown woman was lying over his lap with her bottom - her beautiful, firmly rounded bottom - bared so that he could apply a physical correction to it that had no resemblance to any sort of play acting, and was going to hurt her and make her cry - had him completely hard again even after she'd completely drained him only minutes before.
Gain reached down and smoothed her hair back from her eyes. "You know why you're here, don't you?"
Pouting her lips outrageously, Nina nodded. "Yeah."
His big hand covered her rear. "And why is that?"
"B-because I bought us a really nice plasma TV when I knew we hadn't agreed to it."
"Very good. And, just out of a sense of morbid curiosity, how did you pay for the television, Nina?"
She had the good grace to gulp. "I put it on a new store card so I could get an extra ten percent off."
"And what's the rule about credit cards in our house?"
"No new ones, and don't use the ones we have unless we both agree to."
Gain caught her eye. "So you deliberately disobeyed me twice, then, didn't you?"
Nina sighed. "Yes, I did."
That big hand rubbed over and over her bottom, before he started spanking, when the rubbing would do her no good at all. "Then you're going to get two punishments, Nina. Two bad punishments. One right now and one tonight, after our guests leave. And," he added, just for good measure in case she didn't realize exactly what was going to happen, "you're going to return that television as soon as possible. We're not going to watch it tonight and then send it back - "
"But - "
All it took was a look, and she wished she hadn't spoken.
Gain continued, as if she hadn't. "And then you're going to cancel the card completely, aren't you?"
"Yes, Sir." She was wondering about the inevitable shipping and restocking charges, but she wasn't about to bring them up.
"And you're not going to do something like this again, are you?"
Nina bit her lip. "No, Sir."
"That's right; because I'm going to make sure that your bottom starts to sting if the thought so much as crosses your mind."
He was horridly good at this. So good that he had her kicking her legs up and actively trying to squirm off his lap within the first ten swats. It didn't help that his hand was so big and hard and unforgiving - he didn't really need the paddle, he had his own home grown one! He didn't really establish a rhythm, just swatted those lovely cheeks over and over, up and down, then down the tender backs of her legs, which drew even louder screams.
Nina's legs kicked his hands as he drew them back and he ignored it, clamping his left arm around her waist like an iron band when she nearly leaned all the way off his lap trying to avoid his slaps. But she couldn't get away that easily. He couldn't love her in half measures, and they had both agreed that physical discipline was something they'd both agreed helped her enormously.
"Please, Gain, stop nooooo!" When he spanked, Gain meant business. He didn't give light or warning spankings. He didn't do sensual spankings. When his hand met her butt, the spot he'd chosen exploded with a sharp pain that only gradually diminished to a bee like sting - and he couldn't help but overlap swats, so she was often getting swatted in the same place many times over, until she would swear that even just the air was hurting her sore, swollen butt.
Just in case she felt inclined to reach back, which would require him to make the spanking that much harder on her, he grabbed her far hand and held it tight to her waist. "I'm not going to stop until I think you've learned your lesson, Nina. And you've still got the paddle coming."
She'd begun sobbing her heart out long before he reached for the paddle - she couldn't imagine how horrid that was going to feel on her freshly tenderized rear.
Nina couldn't help it. She shrieked and kicked and writhed with each sharp, hard swat. There was no thought as to her dignity or embarrassment at having been driven to the point where she was mindlessly trying to avoid any contact between her bottom and that unforgiving slab of wood.
It always amazed her how much it actually hurt - just plain old hurt. And the sound - the dull sharp thud crack as it made that burning connection with her vulnerable, exposed tail - was almost worse than the feeling itself. It made the swats that much harder to bear - especially when that sound was followed immediately by her own, almost indignant sounding shrieks and
groans.
And she couldn't possibly manage to be so completely involved - so completely submitted or surrendered - and still look or feel in the least attractive, with her nose running and her hair matted to her face by copious rivers of tears, and, she was sure, her bottom shining like a red beacon, as if he was polishing rather than spanking it.
At the very last - she could only hope - he gave her a flurry of ten or so swats, not that she was coherent enough to count. They were quick snaps of his wrist meant to be fast and furious and unforgettable, and they were.
But when he stopped, he consciously didn't put the paddle down, and, even in her punished haze, that was something Nina paid close attention to. He did lean down to her, hating the sight of the aguish he'd caused her as it was reflected on her face. "Do you think you're going to remember the next time that even if you want it, if we've decided - or if I've decided - that we don't need it, then you're not going to disobey me and get it anyway?"
"Y - Yes, Sir!" she cried, fresh tears running down her face.
"Are you sure that you don't need some more? Because this isn't a new rule, Nina. And if I ever have to do this again, what you just got is going to seem like a walk in the park," he warned.
But Nina was quite sure she didn't need - or want - even one more swat. "No - no, I'll remember! I promise, I promise!!" She would have told him that she'd lay a golden egg if it would have gotten her out of another round with that horrid paddle.
He knew he shouldn't be relenting so quickly, but he also knew he had to. He certainly didn't want to torture her. He just wanted her to learn her lesson.
Nina watched through swollen, bleary eyes and the occasional strands of wet hair as he finally turned and put the paddle into her nightstand, where all such things were kept, by his order, then turned back to where she was swiping her hand ineffectually across her face, trying to mop it up.
As he scooched her off his lap, he reached over to grab a handful of Kleenex, then brought her up close to him to dry her face very gently and carefully himself while she sniffled and snorted indelicately. When he was through, he hugged her tight, letting his hand wander down to that still radiating bottom, covering it entirely but very lightly.
As he nuzzled her ear, he asked, "Are you all right?" in that deep, throaty tone that let his true concern for her well being show through.
Nina was still crying a little - her butt was going to sting for quite some time, he'd seen to that. But she knew that she needed to reassure him that she was okay - if uncomfortable, which was, of course, the point of the whole thing.
"I'm fine," she breathed, closing her eyes as his lips wandered over her damp face, then claimed hers in a tender, but powerfully possessive kiss that rocked her to the soles of her feet, then wrapped his big arms around her and held her against him as if he would never let her go.
"Gain?" she whispered, curling into him, returning the reassurance that he was giving her right back to him.
"Yes, my love?" He squeezed her just slightly in reply.
"Th-thank you."
"Awwww, sweetie." It broke his heart when she thanked him for punishing her like that, even while her bottom was still hot to the touch. "You know I love you. I love you enough to do that for you. To bring you back into line when you've disobeyed."
She was shaking her head against his chest. "I know."
"And you know I only do it because I love you so much, and because I know it's good for you, makes you feel secure and loved and helps you be a better person. I could never do it otherwise."
"I know."
Even though it went against his grain to reward her after a punishment, Gain couldn't resist. She looked so forlorn and poutily sexy that he had to. He kissed her again, deepening it, slanting his mouth across hers and taking possession of her, as was his right.
As they kissed, and he grew more and more aroused, despite the fact that he was well past his randy youth, he leaned her over onto her back, letting his hands do the dirty work of getting her nude, the way he always wanted her. He'd toyed with the idea of making it a rule that she wear no clothes in the house, but realized that it would probably make her terribly self conscious, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable in her own home.
But he had done it on occasion - made a temporary rule when he'd come home from work on a Friday night that she wasn't allowed to don clothes again until she had to go to work Monday morning. And they'd barely made it out of bed all weekend.
Once she was naked, though, his mind flipped off to a certain extent, and logical thinking that didn't pertain to making certain that she had a screaming orgasm or twenty went out the window. She had whimpered when her raw red bottom hit the comforter, and he sought to ease that ache, as well as others he knew had been created, despite the pain he'd brought her.
It was an interesting dichotomy; the fact that even though his punishments hurt, they still left her aroused. He had no doubt whatsoever that her cries of pain and indignation were absolutely valid. But every single time he'd ever checked her right after a spanking, she'd been literally soaking wet, and usually rubbing lasciviously up against the hand that was investigating the situation.
When he looked at her, really looked at her, he had to take a breath. She was beautiful - just as beautiful to him as she had been on their wedding. None of his feelings had changed even a scintilla. She still gave him the rock hardest hard on he'd ever experienced, each and every time he saw her, and she still made his heart thud painfully in his chest when she cried or even so much as looked sad.
Nina wasn't a sad person. She was naturally bubbly and happy, and when she wasn't he was just miserable, even when he was the direct cause of her tears.
They had been unbelievably happy for so many years, that he'd almost forgotten the worst argument they'd ever had, probably the closest they'd ever come - and would ever come - to separating, but sometimes his mind sought it out to worry it over, like a tongue finding a sore tooth.
And it had been pretty much his own fault.
Chapter Three
They had been blissfully married for five years. And blissfully wasn't a relative term; they were frighteningly compatible, and there had rarely been any raised voices in their tiny little apartment. The business was starting to come around, and their small business loan had just been paid off. They had a little more money, although not much because they were actively saving for their first house. They could have moved into a bigger apartment in the mean time, but Nina hated to move even more than she hated their cramped quarters, so they had mutually decided that they were going to just put up with it until they had enough in the bank to cover both the down payment and the inevitable fees involved in assuming a mortgage.
They were both working extremely hard. Gain opened the shop on Saturdays and was absolutely flooded with work. Nina, who worked in the back office at a bank, and, despite the fact that Gain grumbled a lot about it, she also took a job working at the local paper, writing short, local color pieces.
Nina had always loved writing, and she was born and raised in Hampton, Maine. She was ecstatic when she got the job.
Gain was somewhat less enthusiastic.
Gain really hadn't wanted her to take a second job. Heck, he hated the idea that she worked at all, frankly. It had been a small sore point that they had had to work through. Nina wasn't in love with the job itself in any way, shape or form, but she adored the people she worked with. They made trudging in there every morning more than worth it. It wasn't a particularly challenging job mentally or physically, and there was plenty of time for social interaction, plus it got them health insurance, which would have been absolutely astronomically expensive for them to get, otherwise.
He knew how much she loved working with those people. Nina thought that Gain gave in relatively easily because this was a job that she enjoyed, and that wasn't too stressful for her. The people she worked with were all her good friends by now - their good friends, since she was always having them over or
they were going over to their places for get togethers.
The newspaper was something very different - a venture into a new area, and it had made him smile to see her so enthusiastic about what she was doing. She had a small expense account, and interviewed local people and went to local sites, then wrote about them. Her editor was apparently very impressed by her, and she began to spend more and more time there when she wasn't at work.
Gain, who was working himself to the bone, too, began to see less and less of his wife. It didn't help that they were both exhausted when they crawled into bed, largely too tired to make love, and that was a big thing for their usually insatiable selves.
He began to question what was going on between his wife and her editor - not that he'd been given any cause for concern, other than the fact that she was never home between her two jobs. He wasn't home much, either, but he missed her when he was.
Gain knew Dunn "Moose" Plourde. They'd gone to school together. Gain had played football during high school - as a full back. Dunn had been the much-celebrated quarterback. He'd gone off to college while Gain was paying his dues and breaking his back in someone else's shop, learning his trade. Dunn had come back to take over the position of editor of their small town newspaper - a position he inherited from his father, who owned the paper, as well as one of the local television stations.
Dunn hadn't had to work - really work and get his hands dirty - a day in his life, and he never would. The Plourde family fortunes would cushion him from any financial losses that might come his way.
And the kicker was, that as much as Gain needed to be resentful of the man for some reason he couldn't quite discern, he was a damned fine man - not uppity or obnoxious. He didn't lord his money over anyone, and he had friends from every possible social strata.
Everything Gained Page 2
