Answering to Him (Old-Fashioned Husband)

by McLeod, Dinah

  His jaw dropped. “Fo’ real, Dad?”

  I tilted my head to the side, grinning at him. “I think so, yes.”

  “Dad, you’re gonna go crazy for this game, trust.”

  We’ll see about that, I thought, but I knew better than to say it out loud. There was no way I could pop his bubble when he looked happier than I’d seen him all week.

  * * * * *

  Alicia

  When I heard the door open, I busied myself with my scrapbook pages, trying to look like I had been busy, and not like I’d been watching the door for the last hour and a half, waiting for them to come back. I’d been more surprised than hurt when Oliver had told me to stay home. I knew that he was mad at me for the tickets, and I hated myself for getting them. I knew it would set us back at least three hundred dollars, if not more. Since we were a one-income family, we really didn’t have money to waste.

  I knew he had every right to be mad at me. I wished there were something I could do to make it up to him, some way to atone, but I couldn’t think of anything. Well, I couldn’t think of anything that made sense to me, anyway. There was no way I could come up with that kind of money—I’d already tried to think of something I could sell, or make that would bring in some money, and I hadn’t been able to think of anything. Every time I remembered Oliver’s disappointed frown and the way he’d ordered me to stay home, my dream had come rushing back to me. Despite many attempts to keep my mind from wandering, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have him spank me for punishment rather than pleasure.

  As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. It was stupid to even consider. I wasn’t a child, I was a grown woman! Knowing all that didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.

  “Honey?”

  I leaned into the rocker I was sitting in and didn’t answer. I deliberately turned away and looked at the pictures scattered across the coffee table.

  “Alicia?”

  I knew I was being childish, snubbing him this way, but I couldn’t help it. At the sound of his voice, all of the rationalizing I’d done ever since he’d left me here melted away until I was just left with hurt feelings.

  “Alicia, answer me please!”

  I sighed heavily, loud enough for him to hear, an answer of sorts. When Oliver walked into the living room, he surveyed me with thoughtful eyes. He took in the pictures and scrapbook paper before walking over to me, an orange-striped bag in his hand.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked gently as he sat beside me.

  “No,” I said mulishly, refusing to be placated.

  “I brought you a bacon cheeseburger, your favorite.”

  At the mention of it, my stomach growled loudly, betraying me. I scowled at him. “No, thank you.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “What is it with this attitude of yours?”

  I turned away, refusing to answer. I knew that would be the end of it. Oliver never pushed me, or forced me to answer his questions. He let me stew in silence until I sought him out—which I always did. Sometimes, I wished he would demand that I answer him and put an end to this tiring dance we did around each other, always careful to avoid stepping on each other’s toes.

  Sure enough, after a few moments of sitting beside me in silence Oliver rose to his feet, putting the paper sack beside me. “I’m going upstairs. See you at bedtime?”

  “You don’t want to spend any time with me?” I asked, wounded.

  “Honey, you aren’t saying anything, and no, I’m not going to sit here and let you ignore me. I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t sound sorry. In fact, he sounded…I wasn’t sure, but he sounded more confidant and in control than I’d ever heard him in my life. Why did it make my heart do flip-flops? Why did it make me feel excited, as though something was about to change between us?

  I got the feeling that Oliver was tired of this same old routine, this politeness, and careful treading that he did around anything that might upset me. I found myself unconsciously pushing him, trying to prod a different reaction. If I were honest with myself, I would admit that I had been doing it for years now. It wasn’t very mature of me, I knew that, but I couldn’t stop myself.

  Everyone had always told me how much they envied my marriage. Oliver and I were equal partners, and if anything, he usually deferred to my wishes to keep me happy. He was always trying to make me happy. All my girlfriends envied that he was so cool and levelheaded, how polite and gentlemanly he was. He was a good man, and yet, something inside me hungered to be thrown over his knee and paddled with his hand. Some craving lay in wait, praying on my thoughts at every available chance… wishing and hoping for the very thing that made me blush with embarrassment even as my nipples started to harden.

  I stood up abruptly, knocking a few photographs to the ground. I bent to pick them up before heading for the staircase. Before I’d even made it all the way up, I heard the loud blaring coming from Jonah’s room. I groaned in frustration before heading to his room. I rapped sharply on the door, but of course he didn’t hear me. “Jonah!” I called out, banging on the door. He knew he wasn’t allowed to play video games on school nights.

  When I still didn’t get an answer, I turned the knob and let myself in. To my surprise, I saw Oliver sitting in one of those strange, legless chairs Jonah kept in his room with a video game controller in his hand. “Jonah!”

  Both of them turned toward me, seeming irritated at me for interrupting their game. “What, Mom?” Jonah groaned.

  “Don’t talk to your mom that way,” Oliver said immediately. I was pleasantly surprised by the way he came to my defense, and for the fact he made Jonah apologize.

  “You know there’s no video games on a school night,” I chided him, giving my husband a sidelong glance. He was the last person I’d expected to find playing video games.

  “I’m afraid that’s my fault, Alicia,” Oliver shocked me further by saying. “I asked Jonah to show me a few things on this game of his. It’s pretty fun, actually.”

  Normally, my heart would melt at his boyish grin—it was so unlike him—but all I could think about was the fact he would rather play games than be with me. “You know the rule,” I told him, just as sternly. I saw Jonah’s eyes go back and forth between the two of us, waiting to see what Oliver would say. I waited, too.

  “On most nights you’re right,” Oliver replied evenly. “But it’s only eight, and Jonah has already done all his homework. Isn’t that right, bruh?”

  Jonah rolled his eyes, even as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Not cool, Dad. Not cool.”

  “Sorry,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m not going to keep him up late, honey. Probably another hour here, and then we’ll get off in plenty of time for him to shower and get to bed on time.”

  I shook my head at him. “Bedtime isn’t what I’m concerned about here. I—”

  “Give us a minute, bruh bruh.” Oliver put down the controller and stood, moving toward me.

  “Dad!” Jonah protested loudly.

  Oliver was smiling at our son’s indignation, but it faded when he reached the doorway. “Can I have a word, honey?”

  I was surprised by the question as much as the authoritative, even tone he said it in. I knew it wasn’t really a request. Still, I followed him to the bedroom, and sat down when he patted the space beside him.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I… it’s a school night,” I said, lamely.

  Oliver was giving me an eagle-eye look, and I knew he was trying to ferret out the truth. “Really, Alicia? Does that really matter right now? You’re always telling me to spend more time with him, and then when I do, you try to pull me away. What kind of message do you think that sends me? What about our son?”

  I looked down at my hands. I hadn’t thought about it like that. All I knew was that I had been burning up like I had a fever ever since I’d had that dream. I wanted to know what it meant and why it was driving me to the loony bin, more with each passing da
y. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  If I’d expected to see his frown melt away and be replaced with his normal accommodating smile, I would have been sadly mistaken. The furrows in his brow only deepened. “What is going on with you? I want the truth.”

  “I don’t know… ” I muttered miserably.

  “You’re not acting like yourself, and I want to know why. You’re not normally so snappish and short-tempered. What happened to my sweet wife?”

  I shook my head at him—if only I knew! “I’m sorry,” I replied, sounding pitiful even to my own ears.

  “You can’t give me an explanation?”

  I shook my head.

  “Alright then. I’m going to go back to Jonah, and like I said, we’re going to be playing for another hour. When I come back, I expect us to talk. Since you don’t know why you’re behaving this way, I want you to stay in here and figure it out.”

  My eyes flew to his face, searching for a smile, or laughter in his eyes. Something, anything that would tell me that he was kidding. I found none. “What? Are you… are you grounding me?”

  I expected him to fold at my astounded voice, but he just nodded. “I guess you could look at it like that, if you wanted to.”

  “But—” I wanted to say that he seemed awfully calm for someone who’d just transported back in time to the days of the Neanderthal, but all my spiteful words deserted me at the quelling look he gave me. I bowed my head submissively and didn’t look up until I heard him leave the room.

  Once I’d been left alone, I didn’t know what to do with myself. What was I supposed to do? Dust? File my nails? Of course, Oliver had said that I should think about my behavior as of late, but really… I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what was wrong me, so how could I explain it to him? If I knew why I was being so bratty, I would tell him.

  He was right, I reflected. This wasn’t like me. I was normally so slow to anger and while I didn’t possess the wellspring of calm that Oliver did, I normally chose my words more carefully. What was going on with me? I closed my eyes for a second, rubbing at my pounding temples. The minute my eyes were shut, I saw a hand in my mind’s eye, rising and falling with a thwack on an upturned bottom.

  A jolt of nervous energy shot through me, and my eyes flew open. Was that it? I wondered. Was it the spanking? It was something I’d longed for my entire life, but maybe I just couldn’t handle it in reality. The thought of never being spanked again, though… I just didn’t know what to think. I leapt to my feet and began to pace.

  By the time Oliver came back to our room, I had polished the bedroom furniture, cleaned the toilet bowl, and practically worn a hole into the carpet with my pacing. He took it all in with a glance before walking past me and sitting on the bed. I waited until he signaled for me to join him, which he did by patting his knee.

  I walked toward him, but stopped just before I got to his knees. “Hello.”

  “Come here, Alicia.”

  Yikes! From the first, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Who was this man?

  “It looks like you’ve been busy in here,” he observed.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I told you to think about your speeding, not clean,” he reminded me, not unkindly.

  “I know. I did, I was just… nervous.”

  Oliver seemed quizzical. “Nervous about what? Since when is talking to me cause to be nervous?”

  “It’s not you,” I assured him, taking a deep breath. “It’s me.”

  “I guessed that much,” he teased, sliding a hand around my waist. He used the other to tickle my ribs, but I wasn’t in the mood for games, and I pushed his hand away.

  “Can you be serious, please?”

  “I thought you said I’m too serious,” he reminded me.

  I sighed. “I did, but… I need you to listen to me. This is hard enough as it is.”

  The smile faded from his lips, and I tried to pull away, but Oliver held me tightly against him. I buried my face into his chest, breathing with difficulty. “Out with it, baby. You’re scaring me.”

  The words made me laugh, but it sounded hollow to my own ears. “I’ve been thinking…”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  “What do you think about… I mean, would you ever… would you feel better about the tickets if you spanked me?” The words came out of me in a rush. As soon as they were out there, I bit my lip hard to keep from saying anything else that would embarrass me. I listened to the rhythmic thudding of my husband’s heart as I waited for his answer. It soothed me somehow.

  “Do you want me to spank you?” he asked after what felt like an eternity.

  “I don’t know,” I mumbled miserably.

  Oliver pulled back from me and tilted my chin so that I met his eyes, however reluctantly. “Do you want me to?”

  “I really don’t know.”

  “Then why bring it up?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

  “I don’t know!” I burst out. “This whole spanking thing… it’s something I’ve wanted for so long!” Oliver seemed surprised by my words, but I rushed on before he could speak. “It’s stupid, but it’s something that I need. When you spanked me, I don’t know… I felt like I was a different person. Or…maybe I was finally becoming the woman I was always meant to be.”

  “OK,” he said slowly.

  I felt my heart sink. I could tell he didn’t get it. I didn’t think I had the words to explain it to him, when I barely understood it myself. Something inside me knew that I needed his guidance, I needed his punishment. But how could I ever make him see that? How could I put what I felt into words that wouldn’t make me sound like a crazy person?

  “You know what? Forget it.”

  “No, I am not just going to forget about it, Alicia,” he objected. “We’ve been married too long to start acting like this, OK? If something’s bothering you, I want to know.”

  He was right, but I didn’t know how to bridge the gap I felt opening up between us. “I’m tired.”

  “Fine, you can go to bed.” Nodding, I tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his hold on me, adding, “After we talk about those tickets.”

  Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. Since my outburst, I’d forgotten all about the tickets. “I will figure out a way to pay for them,” I said.

  To my surprise, Oliver hauled me over his lap. I reached my hands out to prop myself up on the comforter, turning my head to look at him. Before I could open my mouth to protest, he’d already slid my sweat pants down to my knees and swept my panties down with them. “It’s not about the money.”

  “Then what—”

  My protest was cut off with two resounding smacks to my bare bottom, one to each quivering cheek. “This is about having more regard for your safety.” As soon as he’d finished speaking, he began warming my bottom in earnest.

  “Stop it!” I cried out. “Jonah will hear you!”

  “Then I’d suggest you keep it down.” His cool remark made me insanely angry, but I bit back my retort and tried to get into the rhythm of the spanking.

  I felt my temper rise with each and every biting spank that landed on my tender flesh. My eyes filled with tears, but they were hot, angry ones, not repentant at all. Just when I thought I was about to boil over with frustration, he stopped. I could have slapped him, I was so pissed.

  “Remember that every time you get the urge to have a lead foot,” he said, and I scowled at him. If he noticed my mutinous face, he didn’t comment.

  With a huff, I turned away from him, crawling into bed and burying myself under the blankets. I was seething with rage. Who did he think he was? He hadn’t even listened to me, or given me a chance to defend myself! He’d just started spanking, like some… some… some hot-shot that thought he got the final say!

  I fumed all night long, long after Oliver set his book down and turned off the light. Then I stared into the darkness, too wound up to sleep.

  Chapter 4

  Oliver had gotten pretty handsy in his sleep, a
nd even though I’d kept shrugging him off, his hand still found an intimate spot to caress no matter which way I turned. By the time his alarm went off, I’d had little to no sleep, and I knew my face reflected it. The way my husband drew back when he saw me confirmed it.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked, as though nothing of any importance had happened between us. Maybe to him, it hadn’t, but I was still angry.

  “Not well,” I replied shortly, throwing off the covers and getting out of bed.

  “I was thinking about taking off for lunch today.”

  I ignored the olive branch he was trying to offer me, and reached for my robe. I slid it over my arms and pulled the sash tight around my waist, tying it into a bow.

  “Did you hear me, Alicia?”

  Of course I heard you, I thought to myself. I’m not deaf. Aloud I said only, “Yes, Oliver.”

  “I was thinking it’d be nice to go to Fredicks’.”

  I closed my eyes at the mention of our favorite Italian restaurant. Just that one word alone conjured mouth-watering aromas of meat sauce, and cannoli that was to die for. He knew he was fighting dirty even bringing it up. “It’s expensive,” I replied brusquely.

  “We can spring it,” he decided.

  I opened my mouth to remind him that he’d spanked me for getting two tickets, which assured that we most certainly could not afford it, but I decided not to remind him of my wrongdoing. “There’s no way you’re going to get in and out of there in an hour.”

  “I’ll take an extended lunch.” He said it with a shrug. “They owe me.”

  The finality in his voice decided it. I knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “OK. I have to run out and get a few things for the house today.” I let that sink in, waiting. I knew what was coming, what always came after I got a ticket. The inevitable long-suffering sigh, the warning to be careful, the look that said he didn’t trust me to obey traffic laws.

  “Alright.” He smiled widely, much to my surprise. “How’s eleven-thirty for lunch?”

  “That’s it?” I asked dubiously.

  Oliver paused, his brown eyes quizzical. “Does that not work for you?”