by Megan McCoy
She sniveled into his shirt. “What?”
“I’ve seen you run into the bathroom to check out the damage. I made sure you had something to look at after the pink fades,” he hugged her close and smacked her bare butt, which made her wiggle closet to him. “Go look.”
“Now?” she whimpered, wanting him to hold her more, comfort her more.
“Now,” he said, and twirled her around, giving her a gentle shove toward the bathroom.
Sticking her lip out, she threw him a look, but did as she was told. He still had that nasty hairbrush close by. She was not going to protest too much.
She went to the bathroom, in front of the big full-length mirror he loved to watch her in. More than once she had put her hands on either side of it, spread her legs, bend over, and they could watch each other in the mirror. She suspected her breasts bouncing as he slammed into her was a big draw on his part, but whatever made him happy, made her happy. Men were visual creatures. Not their fault, they couldn’t help it.
Turning around now, she’d peered into the mirror and noticed, among the already fading red, a small darker burgundy spot low on her left cheek. Yeah, that would probably bruise tomorrow, and she’d be able to see it for a few days. Despite the tears still wet on her cheeks, she smiled, and looked up to see him looking at her from the door.
“You’re welcome,” he grinned.
Despite herself, she’d grinned back. Then stuck out her tongue at him. He deserved it.
She smiled wistfully. Since then, he’d generally managed to leave her a little reminder or two that she could check out anytime for the next few days. Rueful she felt that it made her so pleased, but she couldn’t help it. That was her thing. She couldn’t help that any more than he could help being a visual creature. ‘Is what it is,’ he always said, and you just could fight it or go along. She liked to go along. Much smarter decision, she thought.
“What do you want to do tonight?” he asked while they were getting dressed for work.
“Sit comfortably?” she suggested, rubbing her bottom.
“It could be No Pants Thursday,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.
“My bottom is already too sore! I don’t need a No Pants Thursday!” she protested. But, truthfully, No Pants Thursday’s were very fun.
Especially when they both dove in full steam. They just had a ‘normal’ evening on No Pants Thursdays, but neither of them had anything on, below the waist. They cooked dinner, ate, watched a movie, did laundry, all with many fun chases and giggles and quickies in between—because neither had on pants! Oh, the fun they had with No Pants Thursdays. But she felt as if she should make an effort to make sure he knew her bottom hurt!
“Okay. Ethan called. We can go out to dinner with them.” Eric said it in a way she knew he wasn’t really asking, that he’d already made the plans.
Fine, dinner out with his brother Ethan, and Ethan’s semi new girlfriend, Meredith, wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Ethan liked to eat well, so it would be very good food at a more upscale place than she or Eric would pick out. Holly planned to eat sparingly at lunch to enjoy it more. She deserved a treat after being majorly punished last night. But, did he need to know that? No.
“I guess. If you want to skip No Pants Thursday, that’s fine with me, who am I to protest anything the lord and master decides.” She pouted almost convincingly and then yelped as he smacked her butt. “Ow! What part of sore butt do you not get?” She glared at him as he grinned at her until she grinned back. Man, she loved that brute of a male.
“Get dressed and go to work, woman. Make us money. I’ll text you later, and let you know when and where dinner is, so you can get home in time to make yourself even more gorgeous than you are right now. I’ll see you later.” He hugged and kissed her and rubbed her butt. Now, that was nice. She could go for more of that.
“Hard to figure out what to wear to work when I hurt so much,” she complained while pulling clothes out of her closet.
“Should have thought of that before you were naughty,” he said, calmly, fastening the belt to his pants.
Did every other wife in the world get turned on and yet vow to be very good when they saw their husband’s put on—or rather take off—their belt, Holly wondered. She hoped so. It sure made her life much better anyway. She realized her way was not the only way. But oh my, it was such a good way.
“It’s not only my butt that’s sore,” she pointed out. “There was some pretty hard pounding going on this morning, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” he buttoned his shirt, and tucked it into his well and properly belted pants. “But you had a good time.”
“You probably should stop telling me how good a time I’m always having,” she grumbled, but again he was right.
Slipping on her clothes, she started thinking ahead to Meredith and Ethan, and dinner. She loved them both, she really did.
But Meredith was so nervous around Ethan it was almost painful. Once, about a month or so ago, Holly had made Eric ask Ethan if he was abusing her. He denied it and swore he thought she walked as an angel on earth and that when they were alone, things were wonderful. Meredith sure didn’t seem to know that though. Maybe now that they’d been together a while, she’d be a bit calmer. That would make for a much less stressful dinner. Having someone jump like they’d been shocked randomly was not fun at all and ended up making her nervous, too.
Probably wasn’t her business, but honestly? It did seem weird that she worried about Ethan maybe smacking around his new girl when she, herself, was going to be squirming on a sore butt all day.
Ethan didn’t seem like that kind of guy at all, she doubted he even spanked. But, Holly realized there was a huge difference between a consensual, head of household BDSM relationship and flat out abuse. While she didn’t like to be spanked in the moment, she had given Eric blanket consent to spank her as he saw fit, whenever he thought she needed it. She knew she needed it. He knew she needed it. She didn’t know why, but she realized once it was done and over, her mind, emotions, and life, were just better. Even if she didn’t want anything more in the moment but for it to stop.
She did have a safe word to stop it, anytime, however, that she had never once used.
Thinking about her safe word made her pause and sit on the bed. That had been an awkward conversation.
“We need to talk about something,” Eric said suddenly as they cuddled together in bed one night ages ago.
“Isn’t that my line?” she teased. “Pretty sure the female is supposed to be the one bringing conversation to the relationship.”
“I guess you just slack on your duties, so now I have to step in and do it.” He sighed heavily, and pretended to be put upon.
Holly just waited. What was this about? She racked her brain quickly but could come up with nothing she’d done or didn’t do. “I’m listening,” she said.
“You need a safe word.”
She realized now that it had taken him a long moment, and clearly much angst to say it. Funny.
“A safe word? Why? What do you plan to do to me?” she asked in mock horror and major fascination. She knew, of course, what a safe word was. It meant ‘everything stops now.’ No matter what was going on or how hard they were into play or punishment.
“Do to you? More than you can imagine,” he smiled sinfully at her and she melted against him. Yeah, that was all she wanted. “But, if you really think what I’m going to do isn’t right, or if you get a leg cramp or bang your head or something I need to know. The safe word just stops things so we can talk. I might still paddle your butt if you need it, but at least we can deal with whatever is going on first or right then.”
“Oh,” she nodded. “I understand. If you spank too hard, can I use it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he rubbed her back, then her breast and popped a nipple in his mouth, making her arch and moan. Looking up at her, he said, “Think of one.”
“One?” she asked, pushing against hi
m and wanting him to touch her more, caress her nipples in the way that made her ache for him inside her. How did that work? Where was the connection? Did it matter?
“One word,” he said. “Safe word. Remember?”
“Sincerely,” she said promptly, wanting this conversation to be over and him to concentrate on her needy self.
“Sincerely?” he repeated.
“Yes. It’s not something I say every day, or I’d say accidently while I’m telling you that you spank too hard and I’m done. But, you’d recognize it as sincere. See?”
He nibbled at her nipple till she gasped and only wanted to put the other in front of him. “I do see, and I like what I see. Sincerely, it is.”
She had never once told him she was sincere. She hoped she never had to.
* * * * *
What he would do if she did use that safe word while in pain and stressed, and not thinking clearly, Holly wondered as she headed out to her car. Maybe she should try it once and just see? He told her it was only for cracking her head, or puking, or if she really thought a planned paddling was unfair. Something momentous like that. It was not to stop a deserved paddling, no matter how much it hurt. It was a matter of pride to her that she had never told him to stop, using the safe word, as opposed to just begging him to stop when she knew he had no intention of it.
She simply chose to trust him totally. He knew her limits, what she needed, deserved, and yeah, actually desired on some deep dark level. She knew he would never take her too far. Though sometimes—and always in the middle of it—it seemed way too far. Far beyond her limits. Especially in the moment when she was squalling and begging across his lap, and all she could think of and feel was the fire in her bottom. But for some reason, the fact he did it, and knowing he would, made her feel safe and loved. They both realized it, and happily fit together very well in most ways.
That was all she wanted for Meredith. A happy, secure, loving relationship. Even though she didn’t know Meredith that well, she’d had a premonition that they would be sisters someday. Maybe… but she wanted her to feel happy and safe and loved, too.
Holly stopped and thought. Oh, that was the issue, she bet. Meredith didn’t feel safe. She wasn’t sure why she thought that, but she did. It just felt like the right answer. Holly slid into her car and decided to be very observant tonight during dinner. Maybe she could find out for sure.
She was worried, though. What was Ethan doing or not doing to make Meredith feel insecure? What was with Meredith that she didn’t bring a strong confident person to the relationship? That was important. Even in a relationship like hers, where he was supposedly in control, her personality and confidence and strength was what made it work so well. She knew that. If someone wanted to be a doormat, they could always find someone to wipe their feet on them.
She was not a doormat, and she didn’t want Meredith to be one either.
Ethan didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d want one. While they looked alike and had many characteristics in common, Eric was obviously a bossy pants. Ethan was more chill and laid back. Even though he was a bit pretentious, it was adorable, while it could drive her insane. She loved her bossy pants, but she realized that her mileage varied from most people. She couldn’t wait to find out about Meredith’s mileage. What all was there? What secrets could she dredge up?
Giggling, she decided she might like being a private detective, discovering how people ticked and what their issues were. Maybe she just found a new career! She could set her own hours, charge her own rate, run around town all day, find out all kinds of secrets people were keeping—it could be very fun for her!
Or she’d just head out to work, and deal with her old career, she realized with a glance at the clock. Might as well. Dinner was hours away, after all, and who knew if she’d find out anything at all?
Chapter Three
“I don’t see how it can hurt to just see what I can find out,” Holly said, trying hard not to whine, but geez. Really, he was just being stubborn. All she wanted to do was help! She put on the small diamond earrings he’d given her for their last anniversary, the necklace he’d given her for their first, and threw him a pained look. He didn’t need to be such a stick in the mud! “It’s not like I’m going to ask about their sex life or anything!”
“No. What part of ‘no’ is confusing you?” He said it mildly, but she sighed, hearing the edge in his words.
“All right,” she pouted slightly. “I understand.”
“Good. Then we don’t need to discuss it again. What are you hungry for tonight?” He grabbed her jacket from the closet and helped her on with it. She smiled, loving the attention from him.
“Seafood,” she said promptly. “How about you?”
“The same, Twin Rivers has the best salmon in town, in my opinion,” he named the restaurant that Ethan had chosen. Holly knew it was one of Ethan’s favorites, but she and Eric usually had simpler tastes. They loved little diners and cozy mom and pop specialty restaurants. Mexican, Italian, and Greek were among their favorites. Occasionally, though, it was fun to splurge, step outside their comfort zone, and go to a high-class place, one that lets you taste the wine before you buy it.
A twinge in her bottom reminded her they often stepped out of her personal comfort zone, however, and she giggled. “Isn’t that what you had last time?”
Opening the car door for her, he waited until she had settled before he shut it and walked around to the driver’s door. Even after all this time, it still thrilled her that he did those little things for her. It was just a matter of fact to him. He didn’t even consider it special, just something that a man did for his woman. And there was nothing she loved more than being his woman.
They chatted about their workday all the way to the restaurant, where they spotted Ethan’s mid-life crisis sports car already parked.
“Here I thought we were a little early,” Eric said. “I bet he already ordered the wine.”
Holly grinned. She was quite certain that he had. Ethan considered himself a connoisseur of fine wine, and she had to admit, his picks were always delicious, yet somehow surprising. She enjoyed that about their dinners out with him.
“As long as it goes with scallops and clams, I don’t care what it is,” she waited while Eric retraced his earlier pattern, opening her door and giving her a hand to help her out. She wondered how he thought she made it in and out of work, and the stores and other places that she went alone. She was quite capable of car entering and exiting, but it was also quite nice that he wanted to do it. No, more than nice. Quite romantic.
She smiled as he pulled her into a hug before they headed inside. “Don’t forget to behave,” he whispered in her ear.
“I remember!” she protested and yelped as he gave her bottom a short, sharp, rather painful smack. “Uncalled for,” she smiled up at him, reaching back to rub, just a bit.
“Just being helpful,” he grinned back. “You know how you tend to forget and delve into other people’s private lives.”
“Hey,” she protested, inhaling the scent of food and flowers, and feeling the ambiance of the Twin Rivers as they walked in. “I promised, didn’t I? I’m a big girl, I didn’t need a reminder!”
“Yeah, but you liked it,” he stated it flatly, making her giggle again.
“There you go, telling me what I like again,” she said fondly.
He’d done that from their first date. He seemed to take pride in telling her what she liked and didn’t like. Since he was mostly right, it didn’t bother her that much. She knew she should be all feminist and outraged and whatever else. But she wasn’t.
In her last relationship before Eric, they had been so-called equals… but he never seemed to care. He figured anything he could do, she could do, and she might as well do it.
Holly nibbled the inside of her lip as she thought back to that last relationship with Stewart.
They were both in their first ‘real’ jobs out of college, and met at work, as equals, c
o-workers, and bonded over the huge learning curve in their high paced business. One thing led to another, and being young and impulsive, they were living together within three months. It was kind of fun, hiding it from the powers that be and all the other employers at work. They would be all cool and casual in the office, and then meet after work, two blocks away, leaving at different times, to get in the car and go home together, giggling over their shared deception.
But, Holly found she was not happy in a totally ‘equal’ relationship. Sometimes she wanted Stewart to just step up and be a man. Well, he was a man, but she wanted him to take a more manly role. She knew it was silly and old fashioned, but she wanted him to hold her when she cried. Why couldn’t he open the too tight jar of pickles without a snide comment? Why did absolutely everything have to be split down the middle?
It only took her six months of living with him to want something else. She thought it was perhaps just youth, or not the right guy. But they parted ways amicably when she got another job and moved to a nearby city to be closer to it. He didn’t seem to mind. Looking back, she understood now that she had been a roommate with benefits, not a love.
She wanted to be someone’s love. That was spring, and at Christmas, she met Eric. Tall, hot, and handsome, how could she not notice him? She’d gone to a Christmas party with some buddies from work. They did a lot of work with financial companies and she was assured those companies threw the best parties with lots of booze and a whole lot of decedent food. She liked booze and food. No reason not to go! Besides, she had a Christmas sweater she’d been dying to wear. Everyone did ugly sweater contests and with a green-eyed, red-nosed reindeer and two weird poinsettias perfectly positioned on her breasts flanking him, there was no way she wouldn’t win. She paired the tight fitting sweater with some tight fitting jeans, and black boots with fuck me heels. She knew she’d ace the contest.
Holly shook her head. She could have cared less about the contest, but maybe that’s what got Eric to look at her. He was one of the judges, and came up after to tell her that hers was a landslide win.
