Cheri's New Rules

by Markie Morelli

  “No, Daddy,” she cried, coming to a complete stop and covering her bottom with both hands.

  “I’m going to brush your hair,” Michael informed her, patting the bed beside him.

  “Is that all you’re going to do with the brush?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Well it was, but I might change my mind if you don’t hurry.”

  Chéri rushed to the bed and sat quietly as he brushed out the tangles. She had fine hair and lying on her back on the table, her head moving side to side as she tried to achieve some form of release had created a massive knot. Michael was extremely gentle as he worked it out, trying not to hurt her, which was surprising because as soon as the last snarl was gone he pulled her over his knees and spanked her to repentant tears and beyond.

  Chéri was sobbing pitifully as he arranged her on her tummy, kissed her cheek and tucked the covers around her despite the discomfort it caused her flaming backside.

  “Go to sleep, baby,” he said, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you too, Daddy,” she hiccupped out.

  Nearly as soon as he left the room, Chéri’s busy fingers bee-lined to her pussy, intent on relieving at least some of her need. Granted it would not be the satisfying orgasm she would have had with her daddy’s big cock stroking her desire to a wild release, but it would take the edge off.

  Unfortunately, her daddy/husband had forgotten to turn on the baby monitor and returned to the room to find her bottom going up and down as she lay on her tummy with her fingers stroking her clit. Apparently her moans were not entirely muffled in her pillow as she’d assumed.

  “My, my, you are a stubborn and determined little thing, aren’t you?” he asked shaking his head. “Never mind, Daddy has a cure for that too.”

  Going to his cabinet he returned with a small jar and stripped the covers from her.

  “Roll over,” he ordered sternly, “and spread those legs high. Come on, knees up.”

  Fearfully, she complied. Opening the jar, he scooped out a thick finger’s worth of goo and stroked from her clit to her anus, leaving a trail of fire in its path. At least that’s what it felt like. Then Chéri decided that no it wasn’t hot, it was cold, no wait it was both. Twisting and squirming uncomfortably she looked at him with accusing eyes.

  “It will do no damage, but will make for a mighty unpleasant night. Now give me your hands.”

  Holding them out, Chéri was stunned when he slipped a set of velvet handcuffs over her wrists and fastened them. There was a chain attached which he then locked to the rail of the headboard. The chain was long enough she could sleep with her hands beneath her cheek as was her custom, but nowhere near long enough for her to resume her previous activities.

  “Now go to sleep,” he ordered, covering her up once again. “Call out if you need me. The monitor will be on and I’ll hear you. Make me come up here one more time for something naughty and I swear you’ll regret it.”

  Chéri nodded and watched him almost stomp to the door. At the last minute she called out.

  “Michael, I mean, Daddy, do you still love me?” she asked softly, her lip quivering.

  “More than anything in the world,” he answered with a small smile before turning out the light.

  That was Chéri’s first and last attempt to self-pleasure without her daddy’s permission. It was a long and frustrating night and she cried for a good deal of it. In the morning, Michael came to her, washed the cream from her and brought her to a roaring climax with his mouth and fingers all while leaving her hands still chained to the bed. It was astonishing.

  Chapter 6

  Chéri sipped her tea and watched her husband make several trips in and out of their bedroom.

  “I know today’s a grown-up day,” he began, coming to sit beside her on the bed, “but I do have a couple of things I need to take care of. I’m not going to set up the exam table as this should be relatively simple if you cooperate,” he informed her. “Do you need to use the bathroom before we begin?”

  “Is this really necessary?” she asked. “I feel fine except for a little soreness.”

  “I’m afraid so, darling,” he replied kindly, leaning down to kiss her lips. “Anal intercourse can be quite safe providing there is adequate preparation and it’s done gently. I was very careful with you last night, but I still feel it’s important to visually inspect you for any damage such as small tears. I need to make sure there was no bleeding. It’s really the wisest thing to do.”

  Chéri looked into his warm eyes and nodded, setting her cup on the saucer. Michael stood as she tossed back the covers and got out of bed. After using the bathroom, she followed him to her special room. She avoided looking at the tools he’d set out as best she could. Sometimes it was better not to know all the details.

  “Head down, bottom up,” he instructed as he pulled a step stool out from under the table and held her arm while she climbed up.

  It wasn’t terribly wide, so there wasn’t much room to maneuver away from him. She was also well aware of the hidden straps available to him should she decide to put up a struggle. His warm hands helped her get into position. Her chest was directly on the table and her bottom ridiculously high in the air and unprotected; at least that’s what it felt like.

  She heard the gloves and tensed.

  “Relax, darling,” Michael soothed, “I won’t do anything without telling you first. Right now I’m just going to feel inside with one finger. Tell me if there is any pain.”

  “Okay,” Chéri replied.

  His finger slipped inside relatively easily and while part of her would have liked to complain, in good conscience she couldn’t. It felt too damn good. For some reason that made her slightly angry and she tightened up.

  “Don’t do that, honey,” he advised as he rotated his finger in a circle. “I want this to be as comfortable for you as possible.”

  Chéri stopped fighting herself and relaxed, lifting her ass slightly as she allowed the moan of pleasure to escape. She heard him chuckle.

  “That’s better, my love. I don’t feel anything and it seems as though there is plenty of room for the probe,” he stated, withdrawing his digit. “I’m not going any deeper than I have to with this,” he continued, showing her a long black tube-like instrument. “It will allow me to actually see the tissue inside your rectum and inspect it for damage. Hopefully I won’t find any because I sure as hell want to fuck this sweet ass often.”

  Suddenly Chéri had an alarming thought and before she could stop herself the words flew from her mouth.

  “Do you like it better than my pussy?” she asked, looking at him over her shoulder as he prepared to feed the tube into her bottom.

  “Oh, baby,” Michael sighed, “I love every part of you. I love your hot mouth on my cock, I love fucking your pussy hard and deep and I love gently forcing my cock into your incredible ass. What I love best is making you howl with pleasure, screaming out my name and I intend to keep looking for ways to make that happen, no matter how ‘kinky,’ your word not mine, they may be.”

  Chéri’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Now it’s probably best if you look away, darling. There’s no sense in worrying about what’s going to happen next. You have no choice in the matter anyway.”

  She was not shocked to feel her thighs were somewhat slippery as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Damn, it was barely eight o’clock in the morning.

  “Try to relax, baby,” Michael suggested as he worked the tip of the tube into her bottom. “As I said I’m not going very deep, only a few inches beyond what I imagine my cock went last night.”

  Chéri couldn’t help herself. She clenched down hard and he paused.

  “I could, however, go very deep,” he informed her with a touch of sternness in his voice that had not been present before. “This has several extensions and with some effort, lube and maneuvering I imagine I could take it a good eighteen
inches or more. You won’t like it. I can guarantee that, but I could if you don’t want to behave. Now relax that little rosebud and be my good girl before I give you a very hard spanking and start over.”

  “You can’t. It’s an adult day,” Chéri blurted out.

  Michael laughed.

  “It’s an adult day if you’re going to act like one. Otherwise it can turn into something else quite quickly. I have the means to take this choice from you and you know it, but if I have to resort to that, believe me you’ll be one very sorry little lady by the time I’m done. You know I’ve been longing to give you that enema and once that’s accomplished I’d be interested to see just how deep this is capable of going. Now open up,” he snapped.

  Defeated, she released her grip on the tube and looked away. There was no mistaking his intent. She was playing straight into his fantasies and he would convert from loving husband to a very strict daddy with no hesitation.

  It was not nearly as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. In fact, it was quite stimulating. The idea that he was actually inspecting her rectum in combination with knowing it was for her own good; well she very nearly had an orgasm. That would have pleased Michael immensely for he’d always insisted she was anal erotic while she stubbornly denied it.

  She tried her best to hide her response to his ministrations, but Michael was no fool. While he was slowly withdrawing the instrument from her bottom he paused and stripped off one glove.

  Plunging two fingers deep into her pussy he swiftly located her g-spot and began rubbing it firmly. That combined with the sensation of the tube being withdrawn from her bottom, inch by inch sent her into a wild climax that had her screaming and shivering for a long time.

  Michael soothed and cuddled her once he’d set the instrument aside, whispering endearments as his hands stroked her sweat drenched flesh. She hadn’t realized she’d shed any tears until he gently wiped them away and lifted her down, holding her firmly against his strong body.

  She had to give him credit. He didn’t tease her or say I told you so as he could have. Instead he held her lovingly until she was able to stand alone.

  “I’m starving,” he said, kissing her hair. “I think I’ll go start breakfast. Is there anything special you want?” he asked, brushing his lips across hers.

  “Humble pie?” she suggested as she buried her face against his chest in mortification.

  “You got it, baby,” he replied with a laugh. Swatting her bottom, he released her and left the room whistling.

  Damn, she thought as she headed to the shower. Why did he always have to be right?

  They spent the day doing yard work. Chéri raked leaves; Michael covered the rose bushes with wooden structures and cleaned the gutters. There was a definite nip in the air and Chéri wondered if they could get another weekend’s use of the lake house before the weather turned too cold.

  “Let’s have an adult weekend soon,” she suggested to Michael when they took a break and sat on the swing sipping coffee.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know,” she replied turning sideways and tucking her feet under his thigh. “How about a weekend at the lake? We haven’t used it much this year and soon it will be too cold to take the boat out. We used to go all the time when the boys were home.”

  “I could stand to do a little fishing,” he admitted, resting his head on the cushions and keeping the swing swaying. “Were you planning on asking anyone to join us?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it. I suppose we could, but I wouldn’t mind if it were just us,” she offered. “It would be nice to get away.”

  “When do you want to go?” he asked, absently rubbing her jean clad leg.

  “Why not next weekend? We don’t have anything going on that I know of.”

  “All right, next weekend it is,” he smiled, “Although I will miss spending the weekend with my little girl.”

  “Truthfully, it’s been rather intense,” Chéri admitted. “Not that I haven’t enjoyed most of it, but I sort of miss being a normal couple.”

  “Are you unhappy, Chéri?” he asked, watching her face closely.

  “No, not at all, it’s just that sometimes I feel a bit overwhelmed.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, it’s like we live in two different worlds. It’s not so easy to switch back and forth now that we have started playing more frequently. Sometimes at work I find myself wanting to pitch a fit, or stomp my feet, or stick my tongue out at my boss,” she sighed ruefully. “At other times, I want to walk into your chambers and climb onto your lap to be cuddled. I guess I’m sort of afraid I’m beginning to merge the two worlds in a way that’s not playing.”

  “Go on,” he encouraged.

  “Michael, I’m not sure it’s healthy. I’m a forty-two-year-old woman who wants her daddy at the most inappropriate times. It’s scary.”

  Michael set his coffee cup down on a table and reached for her, pulling her onto his lap and into his arms. She snuggled close, resting her head on his chest.

  “What do you want to do about this?” he asked. “I don’t think I can stop, baby,” he admitted. “I love it too much. Going back to the cold vanilla couple we were holds no appeal for me. I was dying. I felt useless in our marriage.”

  “You weren’t, of course you weren’t,” Chéri insisted. “I’ve always needed you, Michael.”

  “No, Chéri, you didn’t,” he said sadly. “While I had tremendous authority and responsibility at work, I had virtually none at home. I know what you’re saying, baby, because I lived it, in reverse. I was a man at work, and treated like a child at home. You took care of everything, ordered me about and insisted on having things your way. It wasn’t very flattering. You didn’t consult me on anything, even the most important issues, and if you don’t mind my saying so, you were a bitch about it. You were frustrated at having everything land on your plate, but refused to give up an ounce of control. You wouldn’t now, if I hadn’t taken it from you and I’ll tell you straight up, I’m not giving it back.”

  “Michael,” she cried, stunned at the fervor in his voice. Sitting up, she noted the sternness in his face, the tight lipped expression around his mouth. “I didn’t mean to start an argument.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “Obviously I have. You’re angry,” she said.

  “I’m not angry; I just want to be very clear. I love you, Chéri, and I always will, but things will never go back to what they were, never! I will never again be that man, the one you could run over with a bulldozer and he would get up and say, yes dear. Do you understand?”

  “Was I such a bad wife?” she demanded, trying to get off his lap.

  “You were not a bad wife. You kept a lovely home for the boys and I, and you worked hard to make sure every detail was attended to. You were also overworked, stressed to the max, and had an expression when crossed that could freeze me and the boys in our tracks. We’d slink away, afraid to make you any madder. You were cold and waspish and it made for a mighty uncomfortable home life. If things were not done your way, on your timeline, you made our lives hell, and that’s the truth.”

  “Then why didn’t you leave me, take the boys and divorce me?” she demanded, still trying to pry his hands away from her waist.

  “Because I remembered what you were like in the beginning, when you looked up to me, when you respected me,” he said wistfully.

  “I’ve always respected you, Michael,” she snapped.

  “I wish that were true,” he replied sadly. “I really wish that were true, but the truth is you didn’t respect me for years, not until I put my foot down, not until I showed you I wasn’t going to put up with any more of your arrogant and destructive attitude. I’m extremely thankful it worked. Thankful that taking you in hand and blistering your sassy little bottom brought you to your senses, otherwise our marriage would have been over long ago and it brings me no joy to say that.”

  Chéri was shocked. Yes she
knew there were problems in the marriage, but she hadn’t really allowed herself to believe divorce had ever seriously entered his mind.

  “So,” she nearly shouted, “if I hadn’t agreed to your terms three years ago, you would have left me? Divorced me?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael admitted, shaking his head. “It was a possibility. I don’t think I could have been any unhappier.”

  “Well, now’s a fine time to tell me this. How can we talk rationally with that hanging over my head? How can we discuss possible changes to our relationship when I know that had I not agreed you would have left me? Boy you must have really loved me,” she snorted sarcastically.

  “I did and do love you,” Michael growled, finally letting his wife off his lap and standing. “Look how far we’ve come. Our marriage is rock solid, we have the world’s greatest sex life and I hate to be away from you for a minute, let alone hours while I work. You just admitted you often wish you could be my little girl during your working hours when you’re stressed or upset. What the hell is wrong with this picture? We’re happy, god dammit,” he shouted down at her.

  “Yeah, you really sound happy,” she sneered as she glared up at him.

  “How did we go from yardwork and discussing an adult weekend to this?” he roared.

  “You finally told the truth,” she shouted back, poking him in the chest before turning and stomping off toward the house.

  “What the fuck just happened here?” Michael asked himself out loud. He started to follow her, but years of avoiding Chéri’s wrath came slowly creeping back. Instead, he picked up the tools and put them away in the garage. He’d deal with her later, when she’d calmed down.

  But he didn’t. They avoided each other for the rest of the day. At 7:30 she came downstairs wearing a low-cut red dress, red heels and with her hair up looking as far from childlike as she possibly could. Her make-up was much heavier than he cared for and the red lipstick nearly set him off, but he held his temper and escorted her from the house and opened the door of his BMW.