I'm afraid that I still don't understand this queer affair. But I have to admit that these two spankings have turned out to be rich experiences that I can hardly describe in words. This has made us far closer than I ever thought I could be with any man. I talk to him about things that I might otherwise only talk about with my girl friends. I don't know where all this is leading, but I know that I'm hopelessly in love with him. I really cannot imagine life without him.
The date of the entry was July 12, 1939.
Melanie closed the book. There was much more to read, and she could have gone on all night, except that her Aunt Daisy's diary touched her so deeply that she needed some time to let the feelings sink in.
Reading the words was almost like reading her own mind. Melanie would have those same thoughts. She could feel what the woman felt, wondering to herself just what it might be like to be taken in hand by a powerful man, and made to mind by a firm whacking of her rear end. Her own bottom tingled at the thought. For an instant, she imagined Tony spanking her; but it was such an absurd idea, she knew he'd say "she better get a grip on things" (Tony loved to use that phrase), and quit romanticizing her life.
Tony would be appalled by spanking, the way he was such a champion of independent and assertive women. He'd taken such pains to support Melanie in her own pursuits, insisting that she have a rich life of her own, and not feed off a man's, like women did a generation ago. If she mentioned spanking, he'd likely think that she'd gone round the bend. Melanie could just see the dumbfounded look on his face.
Even so, she couldn't help but envy her Aunt, that she was born in another time, when relationships and roles were so much easier. Yes, she wanted to be an independent woman with her own pursuits. And in fact she had been quite independent before she married Tony, with a great job as an interior designer. Now of course, she had the house, her garden and the cookbook she was planning to start when the renovations were over. She had plenty in her life to be independently fulfilled.
The Aunt Daisy thing was something altogether different. There was still a side of her nature that was compliant, that wasn't independent at all. There were times when she wanted a man to be bold, decisive and even dominant. Spankings? Maybe that too. There was a childish streak in her, and the whole idea of being set in her place by a good firm paddling was thrilling, even as it was absurd.
Melanie sighed deeply, as she put the diary away and locked the old trunk. From below, she heard Tony call her and she scampered downstairs to be with him in the real world, away from this curious fantasy life.
When Melanie entered the kitchen, she realized that the afternoon had indeed vanished, and she'd again missed the normal dinner hour lost in her secret world. However, Tony seemed less distant and irritated this night, much to her great relief.
"What is it you do upstairs?" he asked pleasantly, when they were eating.
"Oh, just some . . ." she was really unsure about what to say. If she mentioned the diary, Tony might want to see it. He had a passing interest in antique books.
"Some what?" he looked up at her curiously, wondering why she was so suddenly flustered.
"Some old papers, there's really nothing there, but you know how much I like old things."
"So, when is the plumber coming, this downstairs bath is really bad?" Tony asked, changing the subject.
"Oooo, I forgot, I was going to call him this afternoon. I'll call him first thing in the morning."
"I'm beginning to think maybe I should put you on some kind of schedule with this house Melanie. I'm not sure it will ever get done if I didn't."
Melanie wasn't sure if he was irritated again, or just being helpful. She decided to change the subject.
"Say, I stayed out of your way today, how about being together tonight? I'm really missing you."
"I have some work to do, but I won't be late. I'll be up by eleven, just don't you fall asleep." He was almost kidding with her, and that lifted her spirits.
She watched Tony rise from his chair, wishing that they might have talked more. But at least the "ice" had been broken, and her husband was no longer in that dour mood where she thought he was about to leave her.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Tony was in his office early, and Melanie was feeling happy as a lark. The way he made love the night before was reminiscent of earlier in their marriage. His hands were all over her, his mouth, his tongue, his every move made her body sail into some erotic high, she'd not felt in some time.
She wished he'd been even more aggressive, a slap or two, a firmer squeeze, an even darker sex—she knew there was more simmering under Tony's tender surface. What would make him more commanding, willing to break a few love making rules? She wasn't sure yet, but she was certain that there was something that would push him over the edge.
In any event, Melanie was feeling that old familiar tingle right down to her loins; and with the sun shining brightly and a cool breeze clearing out the humid air, she thought it was a great time to take a look at the old gazebo and appraise the repairs it needed.
Inspecting the gazebo was like going back in time. The vines had grown up over the sides, making the interior dark, and sweet smelling with the fragrance of honeysuckle. As she gingerly stepped up on the now slanting floor, she instantly recalled her Aunt and times they had there.
Walking about the creaky old place, she was so taken with the sumptuous memories, that she wasn't careful where she stepped. Suddenly, her foot dropped out from under her and she fell awkwardly to the floor.
"My god," she shrieked. She immediately wondered if Tony had heard her. "He's going to kill me, if I hurt myself out here," she mumbled.
She extracted her leg from the hole, discovering just a few scrapes. No doubt there'd be a few bruises too by morning. But, having all the information she needed for her plans for the gazebo, and being quiet so as not to disturb Tony, she made her way back to the house.
Melanie's perusal of her wounds revealed little to worry about. She cleaned and bandaged the scrapes and one deeper cut, thinking she'd better wear jeans for a few days, so that Tony wouldn't notice. Then deciding she needed to relax, she retreated to the attic, planning to be there just a half hour or so to regroup. After a little rest in her favorite place, she could change into something presentable for Tony and fix them both a little lunch.
Opening the truck, she pulled Aunt Daisy's diary from its hiding place, and settled down to read again.
"Things are changing fast. I think that Joseph is going to ask me to marry him. I can't imagine that I'd say no, he's the very best thing in my life.
We did have one skirmish yesterday, in fact that led to all these thoughts of marriage. . . .
We were on a picnic. It was a glorious sunny day, and we spread a big blanket in a lovely meadow. We were having just a regular conversation when all of a sudden we started arguing. I can't even remember what it was about, except that Joey was very unhappy with me. I saw his eyes flare the way they do when he's angry. It makes me shiver.
"You know I have a good mind to paddle your bottom," he said.
"You wouldn't dare!" I challenged him, knowing full well, he would do exactly what he wanted to do. I think I might have even taunted him because I wanted him to spank me. That's hard to admit, even to myself! But the glorious thrill I have when he takes me that way is so remarkable, I can hardly help myself.
All of a sudden I took off running across the meadow, and would you believe it? Joey ran after me. At full speed he tumbled me to the ground on the edge of the woods, and then proceeded to drag me to my feet. To my further astonishment, he picked me up and carried me over his shoulder into the trees. Then he set me down on an old stump.
"Don't move," he said.
"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling scared. He had that very dark aspect about him, that I was becoming accustomed to before a spanking.
He didn't answer. But I could tell that he had something specific in mind, the way he searched through the wood
s until he found what he wanted.
I watched with a fixed stare, as Joseph held a long lean switch in his hand. He worked quickly, stripping the thing of all its leaves, so that a smooth surface remained. My next instrument of punishment!
Once he finished preparing the horrid thing, he let it fly through the air, the nasty switch singing with a terrifying noise. I couldn't imagine that he would use this on my bottom.
"Joey, you can't," I protested.
"Oh, I can and I will. You're an unruly brat, Daisy Markham, and you're going to learn to behave!"
Joey unceremoniously grabbed me by the hand, turned me over the old tree trunk, lifted my skirt, and pulled down my panties. In the light of day, Joey would have no problem at all this time, seeing my naked rear end. It was mortifying, my creamy rear cheeks exposed right there before his eyes.
However, he didn't take much time to appraise my state of undress, as he proceeded immediately with the switch. His strong arm came down with a fierce cut right across both of my rear cheeks.
I howled loudly.
Another cut screeched through the air, and landed next to the first.
"Please no!" I wailed.
"Hush," he ordered.
Another and another landed with efficient purpose. I could tell he was putting a good deal of energy into his strokes, because each burned so fiercely.
Another two cuts landed on my rear and I howled again, while I imagined the half dozen cuts across my bottom, leaving horrible red lines, that would stand out for days. By then, I thought he certainly must be done with this ruthless punishment.
"Please Joey, please," I tried pleading with him.
"You're getting exactly what you deserve," he told me, as he brought the switch down another three times very quickly.
"Yeeeeewww gawd! Stop!"
"You'll have a full dozen by the time I'm done," he vowed.
That meant three more, and I didn't think I could stand them. My bottom felt like it was being punished with arrows. It must certainly be raw by now.
"You're going to leave marks!" I tried another line of protest.
"All the better," he told me.
"You can't mean that!" I blared.
Another cut landed, and I yowled again.
"Daisy Markham, someone should have done this to you a long time ago. And if it leaves marks, well so be it, though I doubt these will last very long." He punctuated his words with the eleventh cut.
I was beside myself, but thankful that there was only one more to go. That was the worst of all, and I howled and cried like a baby.
Joey didn't say a word all through my mighty protests. He just waited for me to stop. I knew he was finished, and was very grateful when he finally dropped the switch next to me, but I still didn't dare to rise, since he was standing over me.
"My your bottom looks lovely," he finally commented.
"Joey please!" I managed to say. This was so embarrassing. But even with my embarrassment, there was a strange feeling of satisfaction filling me.
"You know, this is the first time I've seen your pretty bottom in all its well punished glory. It looks most satisfying with your twelve red marks across it!"
"Please can I get up?" I begged.
"When I'm finished admiring it," he answered. "You know, I think we'll have to do something to make this arrangement between us permanent. I'm afraid I'm thinking of all kinds of indecent things right now."
"Joseph!" I complained, blushing.
"Don't you worry, my intentions are totally honorable, Miss Daisy," he said, as he quickly restored my panties to their proper place and pulled me to my feet, so that standing, my skirt fell down over my exposed rear. "But I will have all of you, Daisy Markham, and very soon." Joey put his arms around me and kissed my lips.
I know what he was thinking. My heart soared, but I remained silent, knowing that a proposal of marriage was not far away.
Melanie shuddered reading the words. This was as good as any romantic novel, her anticipation mounting with each entry she read. She knew at least part of the ending, for her Aunt ended up marrying her Uncle John, and not Joseph, but she still wondered why.
Even though she vowed to make this trip to the attic a quick one, Melanie could not stop reading. She just had to find out what happened next, especially when she turned the page and read the next entry.
My God! Joseph’s joined the Navy! I know he's going away. I'm so scared, I don't know what I'll do without him! There's nothing else to write now. I still hope we'll be able to marry, but I'm so afraid that things will never be as they have been for us . . .
There was more, but Melanie was forced to wait, when she suddenly heard Tony's footsteps on the stairs. It sounded like he was taking them two by two, he was moving so fast. When he burst through the door, Melanie could see his temper flaring like a Spanish bull.
"I figured I could find you here, it seems to be the only place that you ever are," he charged.
"That's not true, I just came up here," Melanie fought back. She fought back tears and words and a healthy dose of fear, having no idea what she'd done to incite his wrath.
"Well, get the hell downstairs, we have things to talk about." He turned on his heel and left the room.
Melanie's heart was pounding furiously. Her mind raced through a hundred scenarios all at the same time, trying to figure why he was so angry.
"You were in the gazebo today," Tony accused her, when she was finally face to face with him.
"No," she lied, without even thinking.
"I saw you there, perhaps you want to change your story," Tony said. His eyes were boring holes through her.
She gulped, her face beginning to redden at the same time. Looking down, Tony noticed her bandaged leg.
"You fell through and didn't tell me?" he said shocked.
"I didn't want to bother you."
"Did you go to the doctor too, without telling me?" he asked.
"No, I didn't go to the doctor, I cleaned the scratches and that's all it needed."
"There were rusty nails in that hole. I saw them. Did you scratch yourself on them?"
"I don't think so, this isn't serious at all. I cleaned it."
"Let me see your leg." He didn't let her balk. Pushing her down on the couch, he ripped the bandage from her leg and examined it carefully.
"We're going to emergency and get a tetanus shot," he announced.
"Oh, for heavens sake, Tony, it's not necessary," Melanie protested.
"How long's it been?"
"I don't know, an hour I guess," Melanie shrugged.
They were on their way before she could protest further, the two making a long uneasy ride to the emergency room.
***
On the way home, Melanie was silent. There was not one thing she could say that wouldn't infuriate Tony. He'd lost half a day's work because she'd refused to listen to him about the gazebo; and she'd tried to care for a deep wound that the doctor shamed her into seeing how serious it was. Now she really wished he would spank her. It might vent his anger, and ease the prickly tension between them.
When the two got in the door, Melanie was ready to slink away like a cat, figuring it was better to stay away from Tony, than try to pacify him. Only time would do that. Yet Tony had other ideas.
"Don't you dare go up to that attic of yours," he said.
Melanie turned on the stairway and stared at Tony's dark expression.
"What do you want?" Melanie asked sheepishly.
"I want to know what to do with you," he said.
"Do with me?"
"Perhaps you have some ideas. I feel like I'm living with a child, not a woman."
"Then maybe you should spank me," Melanie suggested boldly.
He looked at her thoughtfully. "You know you certainly deserve it. If you were younger, I would," he vowed.
What did "younger" have to do with it, Melanie wondered. She shivered
excitedly, amazed that he'd even considered it.
&
nbsp; "So?" she asked hopefully.
"What we're going to do is tear down the gazebo," he stated flatly.
"NO!" she shouted. "You can't! I'll fix it. I'll hire people to do it, and I promise I won't go near it, until it's done. It's my Aunt Daisy's, and that's really special to me."
Tony stared at her for sometime, looking as if he was collecting his thoughts, organizing his mind and about to make some important proclamation.
Melanie waited with baited breath.
"You're obsessive about your Aunt, aren't you? What is it about her that's so appealing to you?"
Melanie thought of a dozen things to say to him that might brush off her fascination with Aunt Daisy in single stroke, but that wasn't what came out of her mouth.
"It was her relationship that intrigues me."
"Oh?" Tony's face changed abruptly. Something about the way his wife spoke piqued his interest.
"I've been reading some of her papers, and . . . ." She wouldn't admit to the diary for fear that he'd want to see it.
"And what?" Tony asked.
It wasn't a question that she could avoid, especially the way he looked at her. It was uncanny the tension between them, the expectancy that was written all over Tony's face, like he might already know what had been burning in her heart for days.
Melanie thought for sometime, trying to find the right words to ask for what she wanted. Never in her life had she wanted anything so much as she wanted Tony spanking her bottom right now. But could she possibly ask for that and not have him rolling on the floor in a fit of laughter?
"Melanie?" Tony asked again.
She shook her head. "It's too hard to explain," she answered. "Let me go get us some lunch and I'll call the contractors about the gazebo this afternoon." She didn't like changing the subject, but she felt that she hadn't much choice. Even given his unexpected interest in spanking moments earlier, she knew it was merely a fluke. He wasn't the same man as Joseph, and there was no use thinking that he might be. Perhaps he was right, she was spending much too much time musing over her Aunt and her romantic life. She needed to spend more time getting the house completed and less in a useless dream world. That would certainly make Tony happier, even if it didn't make her any happier.
Aunt Daisy's Secret Page 3
