Cheri's New Rules

by Markie Morelli

  Chéri kept quiet this time. She knew he had bigger ones in that drawer and she wanted no part of them. Finally, after what seemed like at least fifteen minutes, he withdrew it and pronounced her fever free. Immediately, she tried to scoot off the pillow, holding her bottom up, but his big hand settled firmly on the small of her back, keeping her in place.

  “Not so fast, sweetie,” he informed her. “Daddy is not quite done.”

  Oh God.

  Chapter 2

  Michael smiled as he watched her flanks quiver at his words. The two fading hand prints on her perfect ass placed there in response to her slight defiance appeased him, but he had much more intense activities planned for the night and most of the weekend.

  Lately his wife had been agitated, bordering on downright cranky and he wasn’t having that, not again. For years he’d tolerated her bossy, insistent manner as she ran their home like a general fresh from the front. He loved her, loved their sons, but felt he hadn’t set a very good example for them.

  Chéri ruled the roost, demanding perfection at every turn, not only of herself but of everyone else too. He kept the peace, played the go between when the boys were ready to revolt and managed to keep a lid on the powder keg that was his wife.

  She had no idea how close their marriage had been to dissolving into a bitter, contentious divorce. In fact, if she hadn’t agreed to give up some control that night nearly three years ago, they would probably be living separate lives by now. He used to think he could move out and she wouldn’t notice until it was time to get one of the cars serviced.

  Since then things had changed dramatically and for the better in his opinion. He felt like a man again and he loved taking care of her, babying her. While Chéri retained all of her independence outside the home, once she came through that door, she was his.

  They still did things other married couples did. They went to parties and out to dinner. They entertained on occasion and argued about money now and then, but things never went beyond rational. She knew full well if she got too out of control or belligerent, he would spank her and mean it. After having spent time in the corner or sent to bed with a hot red bottom, she no longer doubted his commitment.

  And she loved it. Oh she could howl and complain, to the extent he’d let her, but they both knew it was good for her and good for their marriage. Never, not once since they began, had he taken her in hand and not found her panties and sweet pussy wet afterwards. And never had he felt any compulsion not to avail himself of her remarkably pliant body at the end of their session.

  He no longer got angry with her, well he got angry at times but he didn’t hold a grudge. Once she paid for her naughtiness, it was over and she was back in his good graces. In some ways she was a child and it was never more obvious than when she was crying in his arms after a good spanking and begging “Daddy” for his forgiveness. His blonde haired, brown eyed tigress became the sweetest, heart wrenching bundle he’d ever held in his arms when her lips were quivering and her eyes wide and teary. He adored her and couldn’t believe he’d ever considered leaving. Now it would take a hundred armed men to get him away from her, maybe more.

  “I want you to stay just as you are,” he commanded, lifting his arm from her back. “Daddy has to go and get a few things from the bathroom, so you stay put.” Leaving the room, he went into the adjoining bath and cleaned the thermometer. Opening the cupboard, he took a box from the back of the highest shelf and placed it on the counter. From it he removed two packets, got a pair of latex free gloves from the drawer and grabbed a towel.

  Back in the bedroom Michael was pleased to find Chéri in the exact position he’d left her.

  “Good girl,” he praised, setting his supplies on the night stand and opening the drawer to get a bottle of lube. “Now I want you to sit up for a moment,” he instructed, helping her up and tossing the pillow back to the head of the bed. Moving the chair aside, he sat on the bed. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said, cuddling her close to his side. He saw her gaze go to the items on the stand and then look at him in confusion.

  “I spoke with the pharmacist at length the other day when I went to pick up some items and asked him about you.”

  Chéri gasped as her face went red with shock. “What did you ask him? What did you tell him?” she cried. “I’ll never be able to go into that store again,” she sighed, covering her face with her hands.

  “Hush, baby, I didn’t go to our regular pharmacy. I went across town,” he assured her.

  “Oh. What did you ask him?”

  “I simply told him my sweet little angel had been particularly naughty lately and that I was at my wits end as to what the problem might be. He suggested maybe she was having a bout of constipation as children often do when they don’t eat properly and that possibly a glycerin suppository would help. I thanked him and it was just our luck I was able to find them in the adult size,” he continued with a smile.

  “Yes, wasn’t that just our luck?” Chéri shot back, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Michael laughed and turned sideways, pulling her over his lap. He took his time arranging her so her body was supported by the bed and pulled her panties the rest of the way off. Chéri didn’t fight him, for which he was grateful. Apparently, she’d finally discovered he was twice as determined than she and probably three times as strong.

  Snapping on the gloves, he felt her shiver and remembered why he’d brought the towel.

  “Lift up, baby,” he said and slipped it over his lap as she obeyed. God he loved that word, obey. It has such a nice ring to it, he thought as he patted her bottom in appreciation.

  Tearing open the first package he was surprised to see how large the slippery white bullet was. She wasn’t going to like this, but then she wasn’t the daddy, he decided.

  “I’m afraid this is larger than I realized,” he began.

  “Good, let’s forget it,” she sighed in relief as she pushed herself up a little.

  “Not so fast there, young lady. If Daddy determines you need a cleaning out, then that’s exactly what you’re going to get. If not with a suppository, a good hot soapy enema might do the trick.”

  “No, Daddy, no,” she cried, throwing herself back into position. “I’ll be good.”

  “Funny, that’s what I thought you’d say,” he teased, “although someday soon we are going there, baby. Trust me. But for tonight, if you’re a well behaved girl we’ll do it this way. If not…”

  “Please, Daddy,” she pleaded, the panic in her voice evident.

  “You know I would never hurt you?” he asked seriously. “And you remember your safe word don’t you?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “Good. Now I’m going to have to help you open up a bit, so I don’t want any nonsense out of you. Do you understand? You’re to be as cooperative as you can be. After all, this is for your own good,” he reminded her sternly. It seemed to him that his tone of voice had a lot to do with his wife’s ability to accept the things he did to her. For some reason, the more authoritarian his words, the more compliant she became.

  After squirting some lube on his finger, he used his other hand to spread her cheeks. Slowly he rimmed her rosebud, gently forcing his finger inside. He could feel her tightening and scolded her soundly before taking the lube and applying some directly onto her bottom hole. In no time at all he was plunging his digit inside her as far as it would go and Chéri was moaning wildly. It was heavenly, feeling her contract around him and he had no doubt that should he rub her clit a few times she would go off like a rocket, but bringing her pleasure was not his focus at this point.

  Withdrawing his hand, he coated another finger and eased both of them inside her, ignoring her squeal of distress. If he had his way, there would be a much bigger object separating those cheeks before the night was over. Once both fingers were well seated, he gently spread them apart, opening her further.

  “Now behave,” he ordered when her feet began to kick. “Unless yo
u want that enema we spoke about you’d better be a good girl.”

  Instantly she stilled, breathing rapidly but no longer trying to get away.

  “Okay, baby,” he said. After several long, slow minutes of plunging in and out of her sweet bottom he felt the difference. She was loosening, accepting him and he was delighted. Taking his fingers from her bottom, he pulled her close with his other hand. “Let’s see if we can slip this in and get you taken care of.” Picking up the first bullet he placed it at her entrance and pushed. It seemed to pop in easy enough, even though she let out a small shocked wail.

  “Don’t be afraid, baby. Daddy will never do anything to hurt you and most of the time you like what he does. Don’t you, naughty girl?” he asked as he patted her bottom in reassurance.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she cried with a sob.

  It galled her to admit it, he knew. They’d spoken of it several times and she worried there was something wrong with her. Being the good daddy he was, Michael assured her that many couples lived the same lifestyle, some of them 24/7.

  Using his finger, Michael pushed the bullet as deep as he could before withdrawing and reaching for the second one.

  “Okay, sweet pea, one more.”

  “Another one?” she wailed. “Oh, Daddy, no.”

  “I’m afraid so, honey. Now be a big girl and do as I say. I’d hate to have to spank you now after we’ve come so far without that. Open for me, sweetheart,” he encouraged as he positioned it properly at her bottom hole.

  Chéri couldn’t help it, she did just the opposite, clenching down as tightly as she could.

  “My my, you do need this. More than I thought,” he drawled out. “Now I’m only going to say this one time, so pay attention. You relax that bottom and let me in or I will carry you downstairs and bend you over the island, smacking your pretty fanny with a wooden spoon while I insert it down there. Your choice, baby, but you’d better hurry up and decide before I do it for you.”

  Her body stiffened like a bow for several seconds before she flung herself down and began to sob into the comforter.

  “Push out,” he ordered, nudging her tight pucker. Her obedience pleased him and he smoothly seated the second suppository as deeply inside her as he could. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, rubbing her bottom after taking off his gloves. “Daddy is proud of you, honey.” Gently turning her over on his lap he pulled her into a sitting position and cuddled her close. “There, there, little one. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “No,” she admitted with a sniffle. “But what if…what if…”

  “What, my little love? Tell Daddy,” he insisted, kissing her brow and slipping one hand between her legs to pet her pussy.

  “What if I have an accident?” she cried, looking up at him nervously with her big brown eyes.

  “I already thought of that,” he replied rising with her in his arms. “Bend over the bed, sweetheart, and let Daddy put in your little bottom pacifier. You like that one and it will prevent any surprises.”

  Setting her on her feet, he picked up the item from the stand and helped her bend over and steady herself. Quickly, he slipped the small plug into her lubed rectum before helping her stand again. Going to her dresser, he pulled out a long nightshirt with Pooh on it and a pair of ruffled panties.

  “These will do for now,” he said as he stripped the rest of her clothes off her and tossed them in the hamper. “Later, after your bath, we’ll pick out something pretty together. Let’s go downstairs and you can tell Daddy about your day while I make dinner, all right?” he asked kindly, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb.

  “All right,” she replied, placing her small hand in his.

  He led her from the room and noticed her hesitant steps. No doubt her bottom was feeling quite full at the moment, he thought smiling. In the kitchen, Michael lifted her and set her firmly on a padded bar stool at the island. He kissed her pouty lips and smoothed back her silky hair. It had gotten quite long and reminded him she was embracing the lifestyle in her own way.

  They talked freely, as adults while he prepared dinner and no one entering the room unexpectedly would ever guess his wife was sitting there with her bottom full and wearing ruffled panties under her nightshirt.

  Michael told her about a court case he was adjudicating that was driving him slightly crazy.

  “I wanted to take that young man aside and tell him to take his wife into my chambers and give her a good spanking, but, of course, I couldn’t,” he sighed as he placed a salad before her. “I swear if some of these men would man up, there would be far fewer divorces in this country.”

  “But, Michael, that’s against the law,” Chéri said, surprised.

  “I know it is,” he replied sadly. “I’m not talking about abuse here, baby, but every now and then a few swats on the butt might turn things around. I think most women want a strong man, someone they can count on when the going gets rough. I regret not taking a firmer stand with you at times.”

  “You’re firm enough now,” she pointed out with a slight grimace as she sought out a more comfortable position.

  “Yes, but think of all the fun we missed out on,” he said with a smile and a wink.

  “It would have been nice if you’d taken over more responsibility when the boys were teenagers,” she admitted. “It was pretty intense.”

  “I know, baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner,” he replied, reaching over and taking her hand. “We spent so much time building our careers and I’ll admit I see myself as pretty selfish in those days. Selfish and naive thinking you were managing. I should have realized much sooner that you needed more from me.”

  “Well, I’m not sure I needed as much as I’m getting now,” she quipped, squeezing his hand.

  Michael laughed as he squeezed back and got up to take the steaks from the broiler.

  “Just making up for lost time, baby doll,” he replied. “I love being your daddy,” he continued as he placed a juicy steak on each of the plates he had warming along with the baked potatoes he retrieved from the microwave.

  “I guess it’s not so strange,” Chéri added. “In the fifties a lot of women called their husbands Daddy. We’ve tossed around the idea of an ad campaign based on that to sell a new men’s cologne. You know a ‘back when men were men’ kind of thing.”

  “A lost art,” Michael replied with his head in the refrigerator as he retrieved butter and sour cream. “Women don’t want men anymore. They want lap dogs.”

  “That’s not true, Daddy,” she replied softly. “It’s just that we’ve been told what we ‘want’ for so long it’s taken a while for some of us to figure it out on our own. Did you end up granting that couple a divorce?”

  “No, I postponed it. Are you happy, baby?” he asked seriously. “I know you’re satisfied,” he continued with a wry grin. “I hear that loud and clear, but are you happy?”

  “Very,” she replied. “Now cut my meat, Daddy,” she ordered pushing her plate toward him. “You know I’m not supposed to play with knives.”

  “I see how it is,” Michael laughed as he pulled her plate next to his and picked up his steak knife. “Some little girl is getting too big for her britches and ordering her daddy around instead of asking nicely. We’ll have to deal with that, won’t we?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Chéri replied, propping her chin on her hand and smiling hugely. “I hope so.”

  Chapter 3

  They were nearly through eating dinner when Chéri began to fidget. After several minutes of watching her incessant wiggling Michael set his fork down and asked if she was all right.

  “I gotta go, Daddy,” she whispered as she avoided his eyes.

  “Do you need help, honey?” he asked.

  “Eww, no,” she cried, giving the yucky shiver. “Permission to be excused?”

  “You’re excused,” he replied with a grin. “Ring your bell if you change your mind,” he teased, calling after her as she hopped off the stool and raced for the
stairs.

  “That won’t happen,” she hollered back. Upstairs she had her hand on her bottom plug long before she reached the potty. Skidding to a stop she pulled it out, giving a small moan of pain that quickly turned into a sigh of relief as she sat and let nature take its course. And this was supposed to be the gentle method, she groaned, rubbing her tummy. She couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable she would feel if Daddy did give her a real enema. He’d threatened many times and the words always made her so damn hot, but she had a feeling the actual experience might not be so enjoyable.

  Of course her daddy had a way of “making” her enjoy things, even when she just knew she wasn’t going to. Who would have thought getting spanked, really really hard until she cried genuine tears of remorse would turn her on? Leaning back against the seat, she allowed her mind to go where it would.

  She liked his hand the best, and over his knee. It was so much more intimate and realistic to how a real daddy might spank his little girl. The skin to skin aspect added something you couldn’t get with an implement. Chéri hated the belt and would do anything to avoid it, including running which in hindsight hadn’t turned out so well. The hairbrush was harsh too, but the plastic paddle wasn’t too bad unless he was really mad. The wooden spoon was horrid, horrid! That was why she’d complied so easily earlier. Daddy had made a promise never to cane her. Chéri could not agree to that in the beginning and her husband respected her wishes. Besides, she was a firm believer that if her bottom was going to hurt, his hand should too.

  Over time, she found she liked getting spanked and she liked being coddled, spoiled and babied. She loved walking in the front door after work on Friday and letting her worries fall from her shoulders like a concrete yoke. Walking to the kitchen, she would feel herself getting lighter and lighter as she checked to see if Daddy had left her a note with instructions as he sometimes did.