Cheri's New Rules

by Markie Morelli

  Dinner with the Richardsons went better than expected all things considered. Chéri drank too much but he could hardly reprimand her in front of the other couple. They dined at the country club and danced to the band that played there every Saturday night.

  “I don’t think you should have any more to drink,” he said as the music stopped and they left the dance floor. Chéri giggled, returned to their table and promptly ordered another bottle of champagne from a passing waiter. Michael instantly countermanded her request and sent the waiter on his way.

  “Thank you, but we’ll be leaving soon,” he told the young man.

  “That wasn’t very nice,” Susan Richardson pouted as Chéri dropped into her chair.

  “Shut up and stay out of it,” her husband warned.

  “Come, Chéri, we’ll go to the bar,” Susan suggested with a grin, holding out her hand to her friend. “Mark and Michael are no fun at all.”

  “You’ll sit down if you know what’s good for you,” Mark warned.

  Susan sat.

  “Is he your daddy?” Chéri teased, picking up her glass and draining the last of her drink.

  Susan paled for a moment before laughing and replying, “He wishes.”

  “I’m ready to go,” Michael inserted before Chéri could say more. “Mark, Susan it was good to see you. We’ll have to do this again.”

  “Yes,” Mark replied, rising to shake Michael’s hand, “Next time somewhere more private.”

  “Agreed. Say goodnight, Chéri. We’re leaving.”

  She didn’t argue and Michael suspected she was drunker than she appeared. After kissing both Mark and Susan on the cheek, she let her husband lead her from the club. At home she went directly upstairs without saying a word and Michael found her passed out on her bed wearing nothing but one red stiletto. He slipped it off and covered her, turning the monitor on before leaving the room.

  Chapter 7

  Sleep did not come easy to him. He tossed and turned, considered going to get her and bringing her to their bed, considered putting her in a cold shower to sober up and spanking the hell out of her before finally dozing off. A few hours later he awoke just as mystified about what to do as he’d been the night before and went downstairs to make coffee.

  Chéri staggered into the kitchen an hour later, barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of bikini panties and a crop top. Her hair was a total mess, her eye make-up was smeared to the point she resembled a raccoon and she shot him a dismissive glance as she opened the refrigerator and got out the orange juice.

  “Just how much longer is this silent treatment expected to last?” he inquired, placing his cup in the sink.

  “I have a headache,” she shot back, moving to get a glass from the cupboard. Her fingers worked hard trying to snag it as she stood on her tip-toes.

  Michael reached over her head, took it from the cupboard and handed it to her. She did not say thank you. She snatched it from his hand and turned away.

  “Having a headache is the least of your worries,” he drawled, setting a bottle of aspirin on the island. She ignored him and poured a glass of juice. Taking the bottle, she opened it and shook several pills into her hand before tossing them back. Then she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

  “Says who?” she demanded.

  “Chéri, what day is it?” Michael asked, leaning his forearms on the island and staring at her.

  “Sunday, why?” she asked, gulping more of her drink.

  “And what happens in our home on Sundays?”

  “Well,” she replied resting her chin on her hand and staring back at him. “Usually we play sexy games Daddy dreams up, but that was before I knew if I didn’t agree I was likely to become suddenly single,” she finished sweetly. “Now that I know the truth, I’m not so sure I want to play those games with a daddy who was clearly ready to give me up. I thought divorce was a dirty word in this house, Your Honor, but I guess not.”

  “I never said I was going to divorce you,” Michael snapped. “I said I was unhappy. You never heard a thing I said because you can’t get past what you wanted to hear. I said I felt useless, unwanted, disrespected, unappreciated and needed to do something about it. In desperation I took matters into my own hands and I’ve never been sorry for a moment. You needed someone to straighten out your priorities and who better than your husband, the man who loves you?” he growled.

  “Oh,” she shouted, putting a hand to her head in pain. “I’ve always listened to you, supported you, you block head! Who stuck by you when you decided you didn’t want to be a doctor? Who helped pay the bills while you were in law school? It wasn’t some little girl, it was your wife, the big, bad bitch, that’s who,” she hissed.

  “Chéri, we’ve been married over twenty years. We’ve helped each other through many difficult times. Marriage is supposed to be a partnership, not a platoon run by an out of control drill sergeant. No, wait, I take that back, it was worse than that. It was a dictatorship with you as the queen and the boys and I your subjects. I’m telling you there had to be a revolution and I organized it. There’s been a coup, pretty baby, and now the shoe is on the other foot. The only difference is I am not a control freak. I will make sure you’re happy and satisfied, not left out in the cold like I was!”

  “You make me sound horrible,” she accused, trying not to cry.

  “You were, as much as it pains me to hurt you, you were. But those days are over, honey, behind us. What we have now is so much more. Why can’t you admit it, accept it?” he asked.

  “Why are they better?” she demanded, “because now it’s you who has the control, the power?”

  “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I only have what you’ve given me, don’t you see that? It’s your submission to me that’s healed me, made me feel like a man again. You’ve given me your love. You trust me to take care of you, to do what’s best for us. Chéri, you’re the woman I fell in love with times ten. I love the softness of you, the tenderness. I adore the way you come to me with your troubles and let me handle them; the way you put your body in my hands and let me lead you to climaxes so passionate you sometimes pass out.

  “Don’t even try and tell me you don’t love the life we’ve made. All I have to do is slap your ass and your panties are wet. Do you think I don’t know there are certain words and phrases that make your heart pound and your knees weak? I’m an observant man, my love, and I’ve got your number. I know what turns you on and I know that while you may say otherwise, you love it when I push your limits. Your brain may say something different, but your body never lies. In fact, I think part of the problem is you need more, not less.

  “Yesterday when you described your difficulties at work I imagined you were going to tell me you wanted to live this lifestyle 24/7, and to tell you the truth, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell you to quit. Quit and stay home and be my baby, all day, every day, and no more adult anything.”

  “Don’t talk crazy,” she whispered, wishing his words were not affecting her so. Wishing that thought had not occurred to her on more than one occasion. Wishing she could tell her pompous, arrogant boss, “You know what? You can just shut up. My daddy’s coming to get me and I’m never going to have to see your mean face or smell your bad breath again!” Good lord, what was happening to her?

  “You know what,” she said suddenly, holding up her hand. “I can’t talk about this right now…I…”

  “Chéri?”

  “No, I’m serious. I have a headache and I can’t think. Please…” she begged.

  Michael watched her trembling and wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms. Instead, he used his sternest voice to help her stay focused and grounded.

  “All right, we’ll let it go for now, but today is Sunday and on Sundays you’re mine. I want you to go upstairs and wash that gook off your face immediately. I’ll be up with your breakfast shortly.”

  “But—”

  “Who am I, Chéri?” he demanded.

  �
��Daddy,” she replied with a touch of relief in her voice.

  “That’s right and what I say goes. Now run along and do as I’ve asked before I get out the spoon. I’ll attend to your attitude later.”

  She was gone before he finished speaking, her bare feet running across the floor. Could they do it, he wondered. Could they afford to do it? The boys’ tuition money had been saved over the years and invested wisely. No worries there.

  Chéri made good money, but with a few lifestyle changes they could live quite comfortably on his income. Of course, she would have to curtail her spending, something she wouldn’t like, but it could be done. There were also things they would need for the house. If she were going to be his little girl, then she was really going to be one he decided. Just think of the money he would save without all the expensive clothing and jewelry she typically spent a small fortune on.

  Her bedroom would need some more modifications. His mind raced as he imagined adding an oversize crib. He’d once seen a large rocking horse with a removable plug. Boy he wished he had that piece of equipment today. He’d spank her ass and plant her on it for a good long while as he lectured her about her excessive drinking last night and her smart mouth. The saddle had various coverings ranging from the softest lamb’s wool to a very uncomfortable rush matting. As she wiggled to accommodate one of the assorted sized plugs, she would be one very unhappy little girl and it would serve her right.

  Chéri would never agree to 24/7 he realized as he adjusted his hardened cock. Maybe, just maybe, he could get her to flip the program they were on now. Instead of a few nights a month and every weekend, maybe they could compromise. He would be willing to allow her to be a grown up now and then, providing she wasn’t being punished. That would be the key. If she were a good girl for her daddy, she would be rewarded by adult entertainments, if not…he would be rewarded he thought with a grin.

  Oh how he loved being her daddy. He loved her submission to him, especially when he knew it was hard for her. He loved watching her face flush pink with embarrassment when he described in great detail what he was going to do to her. And he adored knowing it made her pussy wet and slippery just listening to him. He didn’t even have to touch her; his voice was enough.

  She would have strict rules and a schedule he decided. Michael had never been one for half measures. There would be chores for her to do, but he wouldn’t let her over do. Of course coming home to a tired, cranky baby had its appeal too, but it wouldn’t be good for her. She was already stressed from her job and the last thing he wanted to do was make her even more tired. No, his baby-wife would have a life of leisure even though she’d have a sore red bottom much of the time. It wasn’t likely he’d pass up the chance of taking her over his knees and roasting her sweet ass.

  The idea that she wouldn’t have to get up and go to work in the morning opened so many doors for him. He’d always been an early riser and had some of his best ideas before the sun was up. If she agreed to this arrangement, there was nothing to stop him from waking her and putting her through some training. It was his opinion his cock would make a perfect pacifier and he’d go off to work a happy man. Possibly a good spanking and an earth shattering climax in the morning might be a good way to start her day. She could always go back to sleep when he left for work.

  For some time he’d been considering putting a playroom in the basement. Her bedroom was good size but the basement was huge and a private room would certainly offer plenty of space for some of the more modern toys he’d seen and read about. Many of them looked like pretty standard exercise equipment but in the right hands could be converted into lovely tools for punishment and restraint. Yes, he could imagine fucking his girl’s well paddled ass as she was strapped into place on a leather horse. There had been a massage table with so many adjustable parts it boggled his mind. Placing his naughty little girl head down, bottom up while he administered a good, hot enema had long been a fantasy of his, and there was a bathroom right there. It was something to consider and consider it he would.

  Yes, if they were going to do this, he had lots more to purchase than a few pretty ruffled dresses and flowered panties, and if she wanted some adult girl days, she might want to consider he would have no issues using nipple clamps and other assorted big girl implements. In any case, her submission would be required. He was pretty happy about being the man of the house and wasn’t going to give it up. There was no good reason too. His authority over her turned them both on and soothed a part of his soul that had been starved for years. Having his well punished baby-wife turn to him for comfort and solace was a feeling unlike any other. Even though it was his hand that administered it, causing her pain and embarrassment, she never failed to seek out the shelter of his arms, drawing on his strength when it was over. He loved soothing her, rocking and cuddling her as she calmed, kissing away her tears as she apologized and promised better behavior in the future.

  It wouldn’t happen, of course, and Michael was of two minds about that. Sometimes he thought she was not capable of following his orders to the letter, being so stubborn herself. At other times he was convinced she did it on purpose knowing she was going to be taken over his knee and reduced to a sobbing bundle of repentant little girl. In any case, her reasons didn’t matter to him. He simply enjoyed the bounty after living so long in an emotional desert.

  A man of many talents and a multi-tasker by nature, Michael placed the plate containing a vegetable omelet, a slice of toast and another glass of juice on the tray and started upstairs. He wondered if they should even discuss it. Perhaps he should just tell her what he’d decided and let the chips fall where they may. At times, giving Chéri a choice was the wrong move. A stern, no nonsense daddy voice often saved a lengthy argument. He’d decide after she’d eaten breakfast and received her morning spanking.

  Pleasantly surprised to see she’d showered, removed all her make-up and changed into a sweet nightgown, Michael smiled as he placed the tray on her lap. She sat with her back against the headboard. Her light hair was still damp and hung in loose curls past her shoulders and she had a pink ribbon holding it away from her face. That told him better than words where her head was. It was in little girl space and he’d like to keep it there.

  “You look pretty, babygirl,” he told her as he fingered a stray curl.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she replied softly.

  “How’s your tummy? Is your headache gone?”

  “Mostly,” she answered. “I’m sorry about drinking so much last night,” she whispered, looking down at her plate.

  “We’ll talk about it all when you’ve finished your breakfast,” he replied noncommittally.

  “I’m not very hungry.”

  “Eat what you can,” he advised. Getting up from the side of the bed, he began to gather her things from last night. Taking them from the room, he removed the last trace of her adulthood. When he returned, he entered the bathroom and cleaned that up as well, taking care of her dirty clothes, towels and wiping down the counter. After putting everything in order, he went back to the bedroom and sat in the large rocking chair.

  He watched her picking at her food. Every now and then she would sigh and twirl a lock of hair around her finger before going back to moving the food around her plate with her fork. Rising, Michael stood and moved to the bed, taking hold of the tray.

  “Wait, Daddy, I’m not done,” she cried.

  “Yes you are. You’re just stalling, trying to put off the inevitable. I’ll take this downstairs. You go potty and brush your teeth. I imagine we’re going to have quite a long session when I return.”

  “No, Daddy, wait,” Chéri wailed. “I said I was sorry.”

  “I know you did and I have a number of things I want to say.” He watched her slide down the bed and pull the covers over her head. “Suit yourself, little girl, but once I come back up there won’t be any breaks and no excuses.”

  He smiled as he left the room. She was certainly in the right head space and most likely
feeling about five years old. Chéri knew she had a hell of a spanking coming, not only for the drinking and sass, but for a few other things as well. He’d almost choked last night when she asked Susan if Mark was her daddy. That had been told to her in the strictest confidence and she had no right to mention it. Of all the nonsense she’d pulled, that was the most grievous in his opinion.

  Michael was sorry he’d ever told her any details regarding Mark and Susan’s private relationship. The only reason he had was when he was speaking to her and reassuring her that other couples found the daddy/little girl roles exciting. Chéri didn’t believe him at first and demanded he produce one of “these couples.” That was when he told her he knew for a fact Mark spanked his wife when she was naughty and Michael suspected it went farther than that.

  Susan didn’t work outside the home and they had no children. A few times Michael heard him on the phone with his wife and he had a pretty good sense of who was in charge of that household. Once on a business trip he noticed Mark buying several stuffed animals from the hotel shop and questioned him about who they were for. He explained they were for his wife without a moment’s hesitation stating she’d been a good girl while he’d been away.

  After Chéri’s comment last night, Mark was sure to wonder if Michael had said anything to his wife. Michael decided last night if Mark questioned him about it, he was going to tell the truth, explaining his own marriage and how it worked. If Mark and Susan were into the same lifestyle, it would make things a lot easier and he would have someone to talk to when he ran into difficulty. If not, he would ask him to please keep it to himself and to forgive his wife for her outburst. In any case, the damage had been done and it was Chéri’s own mouth that had caused it. She would pay for that mistake shortly.

  Chapter 8

  Cleaning up the kitchen took a very short time which Michael spent considering how he might punish Chéri. Obviously, a simple spanking was not going to do it. No, she needed to learn a lesson, several, in fact, and the most important one was that he took his role as her daddy very seriously.