by Lee Savino
She sniffled, but submitted. He went back to squeezing her cheeks until almost all the sting was gone, replaced by a warm glow deep inside of her.
Finally, he tipped her up and carried her to the chair.
She yelped as her hot bum hit the hard wood. Her leg didn’t hurt as much, but maybe that was just compared to her bottom.
“Now, you’ll sit in the corner and think about how to be a good girl, while I get your bindings ready.”
He came to get her after a few minutes, and she went through the motions begrudgingly with him. He was calm and patient and sweet to her, even when she put up a fuss. It was infuriating. His hands worked her foot and calf gently. She both loved and hated the sight of her handsome husband cradling her cursed foot.
When he was finished, her leg and foot were tired from the exercise but she had to admit they felt much better. He reached for her bindings and she tried to take them from him, snapping, “I can do it.”
“I know you can.” He took her foot firmly his lap. “Let me take care of you.”
She turned her sob into a growl of frustration, but let him manipulate her foot and tie it properly.
He should be with someone beautiful, not an ugly crippled girl. It didn’t make sense that he would want her.
“How does that feel?”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Happy?”
He studied her quietly. She knew she was poking the bear, but the frustration inside her was building, trying to come out, and if she didn’t snap at him, she would cry.
“It does make me happy to know you’re getting better.”
“I don’t see why you should care.”
“Excuse me?” His eyebrow lifted.
“You hear me,” she muttered.
“I don’t like your tone.”
“And I don’t like being your ugly, crippled wife,” she practically shouted. “Now will you leave me alone?” She tried to escape and found herself back over his knee.
“No, stop!”
“Yes, Phoebe.” He swatted her bare bum twice. “I understand you’re hurt and frustrated. A lot has happened in the past few months and you’re still taking it in. But you will not disrespect me, and you will never, ever speak such harsh things about yourself in my hearing. You’re my wife and I love you, and I will not tolerate slander against you. Not from you or anyone else.” He followed the lecture up with four firm swats, two on each cheek, then pulled her up.
“Now, Phoebe. Have you learned your lesson?”
She glared at him, and he chuckled. “I thought not. It would almost be disappointing if you did.”
He tipped her over his lap again and she submitted.
“You like spanking me,” she accused.
“I do that, lass,” he admitted with a little chuckle. “I do like turning your cheeks pink. But I don’t want to give you more pain than you can take.”
His hands rubbed her bottom, massaging a soothing balm into the cheeks. True to his word, he did not want to cause her too much pain.
Despite herself, she relaxed at the soothing massage. His hands were perfect; they knew just where to squeeze and caress.
“Let go, little one. You don’t have to carry it all alone anymore.”
She sniffled.
“Feeling better?”
She had to admit she did. “Yes, Calum.”
He drew her up and set her on his lap.
“Now tell me, why would you not do the bindings?”
As always after a spanking, she felt raw and vulnerable, and more connected to her big husband than ever. “I don’t know.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
“What if it doesn’t work?” Tears filled her eyes as she whispered.
“If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.”
She shook her head and now tears did fall. “I can’t do it.”
His arms were around her, pulling her into his lap before she gave the first shuddering sob. “Oh, sweet Phoebe, it’s all right.”
“What if I try so hard and it’s useless?”
“What if you try and it works just right? You’re scared right now, afraid to hope. Trust me. Let me take away your fear.” He let her cry it out. “I’ll help. Can you do what the doctor said, to please me?”
His big paws held her face and she nodded, eyes still closed.
“You’ve had a long hard road, lass. Let me carry you a little way.”
She melted against him, hugging him as he hugged her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing to be sorry about, lass. No harm done to me. I’ll rub you down tonight, and help you stretch. Tomorrow you’ll be good as new. And if you’re scared again, you will tell me?”
“Yes.”
He let her go and rose. “Tonight you’ll also get the rest of your punishment.”
Her eyes widened, but he said no more.
Waiting for punishment was worse than enduring one. Phoebe found herself grateful when her husband finished dinner and motioned for her to come sit on the bench before him. He redid her bindings and helped her through the stretches. When it was done, he went to the shelf above the hearth and pocketed something, then settled into his great chair, motioning her to come stand between his legs.
“How do you feel, Phoebe?”
She shrugged, and he waited until she answered. “Fine, I guess.” Truth was her limbs were tired, but in a good way.
“Are you going to do the bindings as the doctor ordered?”
“Yes. I promise, Calum.”
“Good lass.” His firm tone became softer. “I know it’s a lot of changes all at once, but they’re for the best. And I’ll help you through them, you ken?”
“I understand.”
He cleared his throat, turning into Calum the disciplinarian. “But now, when Phoebes don’t do the things they should, what do they get?”
She squirmed, feeling like an errant child before her papa. “Punished?”
“That’s right.” He shifted in his chair to make room for her across his knees, a position she was coming to know well.
“Are you going to spank me again?”
“What do you think?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel you deserve it?”
“Yes,” she had to admit.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you think that?”
“Because I did harm to myself by not doing the bindings as you and the doctor ordered.”
“He ordered them to help you. And I want to see you feeling better. You’re my wee bird, remember? We have to heal your wing.”
She nodded, eyes on the floor.
“Look at me, lass.” He waited until she obeyed. “I’m not going to spank you. I don’t want you to be sore and aching more than you already are. But there’re other ways to punish you.”
He patted his lap and she positioned herself over his legs, though she did not like the twinkle in his eye. For a few minutes, he only massaged her bum, separating the cheeks and squeezing them. Her earlier chastisement hadn’t been enough to leave much more than a pink stain on her skin for a few hours; the sting faded just as quickly. Calum’s spankings were never too hard, and his big hands knew just how to knead her muscles to make them feel good. Just when she relaxed, though, his finger probed her hole. She stiffened.
“I spanked you earlier, and I didn’t like it. I don’t want to cause you pain. Naughty Phoebes get their bottoms punished on the inside and outside. See this?”
He showed her a little carved piece of wood, a narrow bulb that tapered and then flared out again. “This is a plug. I whittled it just for you. It goes in your bum hole and stretches you out for me. One day you’ll be able to take my cock in your arse.”
“Calum, no…” Her cheeks flared with humiliation at the thought of her husband putting anything… in there.
“Hush now, Phoebe, and take your punishment. There’s a good lass.”
He oiled up his finger, and pushed the slick digit further into her ti
ght pucker. It didn’t quite hurt but it certainly felt strange. Phoebe frowned and whimpered as he pressed in and eased out, loosening her hole. She squirmed, and his other hand stroked her cheeks soothingly.
“Be still now. Almost done.” After stretching her with his fingers, he took the oiled end of the plug and pushed it in. Phoebe gasped as the thick part stretched her to the limit before popping in. Her pucker clenched around the narrow end; the wide base kept the plug from getting swallowed up by her bum. She almost moaned, imagining what it must look like: a wooden piece sticking rudely out between her bottom cheeks.
“How does it feel?”
“I don’t know.” It wasn’t painful, it just felt wrong. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. He’d put something in her bum hole! And one day he’d put his cock in there. She reached back to touch the plug and he caught her wrist.
“No, Phoebe. Leave it in.”
“But—”
“You’ll wear it as long as I say, or you’ll be punished.” He pulled her up to sit in his lap and she did so gingerly, angling herself so she sat on her side and not on the plug.
“But why?” She pouted.
“Because I said so, and good Phoebes do what I tell them to. It’ll remind you to do your exercises, and that you do these things to please me.” He squeezed her. “Besides, I like the thought of your bottom squeezing around the plug all day, and you remembering me putting it in.
“You’re mine, lass. All mine; every bit of you. Now, back over my lap. You’ve been a good girl, and I’m going to give you your reward.”
*
The next day, to Phoebe’s chagrin, her husband made her bend over the breakfast table so he could replace the plug. He’d taken it out just before bed the night before, after he’d fingered her to climax over his knee, and before licking her to climax again in the bed.
“There now,” he said with satisfaction, straightening and pulling down her skirts. “You’ll wear that and think of me all day.”
Her hand crept to her backside of its own volition, and he tutted. “No, no. Keep it in until I tell you to.”
It didn’t hurt, and it wasn’t really uncomfortable, but after a few hours enduring it wedged between her bum cheeks, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment every time she moved and remembered it, Phoebe snuck into the bedroom and pulled it out.
He wouldn’t know, she thought. She’d just take it out for a few hours.
Calum was gone until late in the day, and quiet when he returned, sitting in his great chair and staring at the fire until she called him for dinner. More and more, Phoebe noticed her husband slipping into a melancholy mood. She left him alone, wracking her brain for a way to draw him out.
“You’re grouchy today.” She teased his foot under the table. “You’re all growly.”
He grunted and spooned more stew into his bowl. She frowned, hoping she hadn’t offended him, but he didn’t seem annoyed. Just distant.
She kept her plan. “You know big growly bears go into hibernation in the winter. Are you going to do that here, or in a cave?”
He raised an unruly brow at her, but a smile lurked somewhere in his face.
She rose to clear the bowls, and he caught her. “Bears can sleep for months if they eat well enough in the fall. I’ll be set for winter if I have something sweet to eat.” His bearded scraped the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulder met. “A wee Phoebe.”
“Birds don’t sleep in the winter,” she said, trying to twist away from his tickling kiss.
“This one does.” He let her go, and grabbed the bear fur, draping it over his head. Pretending to growl and lumber about like a black bear, he chased her around the lodge.
Phoebe scurried about the lodge, overjoyed that she’d brought her husband out of his gloom. They played for a few minutes before he tackled her.
“You caught me,” she said, breathless with excitement. “Now what are you going to do?”
“Eat you.” He lifted her onto the table and burrowed under her skirts while she squirmed with happiness.
He stopped and backed out to frown at her. “Phoebe, where’s your plug?”
The color left her face as she realized she’d forgotten to replace the offending object.
“You took it out.”
She hopped off the table, pushing her skirts down. “It was only meant to be for a little bit, but then I forgot…”
“Did you need to use the outhouse?”
She shook her head.
He crossed his arms over his great chest in a menacing post, but there was a smile lurking in the corner of his mouth. Her breath came in pants as she stared up at him. She’d poked the bear, and now she’d just have to face the consequences.
If only he didn’t look so pleased about it.
Reaching down, he took her hand and pulled her close to him.
“Naughty Phoebes get their bottoms punished inside and out,” he repeated what seemed to be his favorite phrase. His big hands cupped her bottom and kneaded the two fleshy globes. Despite herself, she leaned against him and moaned at the sensation. His touch on her bottom seemed to go straight to her cunny, which clenched expectantly.
He chuckled. “Feel good?”
She pressed her face to his chest, not wanting to answer. A few weeks ago, she couldn’t have imagined being touched so intimately, especially not by a big, handsome Scot who cooed her name as he stroked her skin. And now his fingers bit into the crevice of her bottom and she was quivering inside; he had trained her well.
“Did you do your bindings today?”
She had to think. “The morning ones. I forgot the afternoon ones, along with the plug.”
He clucked in mock disapproval. “What am I to do with you? You’ve earned triple punishment tonight.”
She sagged against him. “Please be gentle.”
He caught her chin. “Always.” He waited for her to nod before releasing her. “Now go get your plug, naughty girl.” He sent her off with a swat to her bum.
When she returned, he’d cleared the table and was warming water near the hearth. He motioned her to strip and ordered her to stand near the fire.
“Another bath?”
“Do as you’re told. Unless you want a spanking before as well as after.”
“No, Calum.”
He soaped up her pussy and shaved her smooth before instructing her to kneel on all fours on a blanket on the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to clean you out. You’ll have a nice clean bottom for me to plug.”
He’d probed her with his finger and washcloth before, she relaxed. Then she saw the strange metallic apparatus he was setting up on the table: a cylindrical tube that fed into a long, narrow nozzle.
“What’s that?”
“A way to deliver your clyster. See this warm water? I’ll put this nozzle in your bottom and all of it will flow to your bum. Then I’ll plug you up tight and leave it for a little while, and then help you to the chamber pot.”
“What?” she squeaked, coming up and scrambling away on her knees. She knew she looked ridiculous but couldn’t bear to think of submitting to such a humiliating punishment. “Calum, no.”
“Yes, lass. You took the plug out against my express instructions. This will stretch you out and clean you. And you’ll cooperate the whole way through, unless you want me to tie you up and give you two. One to clean, and an extra one to rinse you out and teach you to mind the first time.”
“Calum… please, you can’t do this.” Her voice dropped to a horrified whisper. “It’ll be so messy.”
“Let me worry about that. You’re my wee Phoebe; it’s my job and pleasure to clean you up.” He finished his preparations and crooked his finger at her. “Now come here.”
*
In the end, she submitted, kneeling on the cloth, cheek to the floor. Calum set the nozzle in her bottom and let the water flow it. Like every time he’d played with her bumhole, the sensation wasn’t painful, just h
umiliating. After a certain point, she felt full and uncomfortable. “Please, Calum, that’s enough.”
“A little bit more, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”
She moaned, hiding her face in the crook of her arms until he finished, removing the nozzle and plugging the hole. She whimpered when he rose.
“Stay like that for a few minutes, now.”
A few minutes seemed an eternity. If she moved, the liquid sloshed and bubbled in her insides, making her feel like she was going to burst.
“How much longer?”
“Patience. Wait until I say.” Calum bustled about the lodge as if it was normal to have his naked wife kneeling on the floor, shifting with discomfort. “This is how I’m going to keep you clean, when the doctor puts the cast on you.”
Phoebe raised her head. “What?”
“Do you remember what the doctor said? After the bindings and the exercises, you’ll be limber enough for him to put your foot straight and set it in a cast. You won’t be able to do much for a few weeks.”
She didn’t remember, but that afternoon had been a blur. “But, what will I do then? I can’t just sit and leave you to do all the work…” She already was leaning on his help too much. If she couldn’t cook or clean, what use was she to him?
Calum knelt beside her, stroking her bottom and side. “It’s all right. It’ll be winter, and there won’t be many chores.”
“But what about laundry and making meals?”
“I’ll be doing all of that, as well as caring for my wee Phoebe. You’ll lean on me for everything, from the moment you wake up to when I tuck you in at night.” He sounded delighted at the prospect. She would’ve protested, but he told her she was ready, the clyster had been in long enough to do its work.
She buried her face in her hands as he helped her over the large chamber pot, and thought she might die of mortification when he cleaned her up afterwards. Her face was burning as Calum had her soak in a shallow bath while he tidied the lodge, then gave her a proper washing and rub down. He didn’t seem to notice her shame at all.
Afterwards, he settled her over his knees, head down and bum up, a position she knew well. He played for a while, squeezing her cheeks, fingers playing around her bottom hole.
