I Take Thee, Matthew

by Susan Joseph

  “I don’t have a good excuse for my behavior, honey. I was awful, just as you said. I was disappointed it was going to take a lot longer… and I had a childish tantrum… and I took it out on Mark. I feel terrible about that. You would never act like that toward my sister… and I am so ashamed that I behaved like a bratty child. I promise I will apologize to Mark.”

  “You will definitely apologize to Mark, and you will do something special for him.”

  “Like what?” I asked in surprise.

  “I guess you will need to spend some time thinking on that, won’t you?” Matthew stated firmly. “I mean it, Mary Frances. This is never going to happen again, and to make sure it doesn’t, I’m going to give you the spanking you deserve.” He brandished the spatula, and I looked at him in horror. “Yes, I am going to spank you with this. You deserve a much harder spanking than my hand will provide.”

  I was in the shock of denial that he would actually do such a thing, as he took my arm and pulled me down over his knee on the bed. Matthew grabbed my wrist and pinned my arm to my side, just like he normally did when the spanking was going to be long and hard, and this time he put his right calf over my legs to help hold me in place, and prevent me from kicking. I was completely pinned down, and helpless to prevent him from spanking me as long, and as hard, as he wanted. “Please, honey, don’t use the spatula! Your hand stings enough!” I assured him. Surely he wouldn’t give me an entire spanking with that wooden spatula. It was only for extras.

  Matthew didn’t even use his hand to warm up my skin first. He started spanking with the wooden spatula from the very beginning, and I whimpered in pain from the first stinging spank. It hurt. It hurt a lot. “I’m sorry!” I screamed. I must have repeated those words at least twenty times, and begged him to stop just as many times, but Matthew gave me a full fifty spanks with the wooden spatula before he stopped. I collapsed in relief, hurting too much to move, and very relieved it was all over.

  But Matthew had other ideas. He gave me a whole lecture about love and respect, and asked me once more how I would feel if I were Mark. He asked me how I would feel if Russ or one of his brothers threw a major fit directed at me. I had to admit I wouldn’t like it. That I would be hurt, and feel they didn’t care about me. I gave Matthew my word I would never behave in this fashion again, and he asked me to prove I was serious. I knew what was coming after nearly three years as his wife… I didn’t have to count, thank God for small favors, but I did have to ask nicely for the rest of my spanking, and lie quietly over his lap and accept it without kicking or reaching back to protect my bottom. It was the hardest thing I ever did. Matthew made each spank count. He covered my bottom, my upper thighs, and my sit spot, and, when I was sure I was going to die, he announced ‘ten more’. Those last ten were given with his hand, and somehow they hurt the most because they were personal. He applied all of them to my sensitive sit spot, and by the time Matthew finished the spanking, I knew I was well and truly punished for my rude, childish behavior. Matthew rubbed my back and let me cry until I was cried out.

  “Why do you put up with me, honey?” I finally asked him. “I’m so rotten…” I was feeling so ashamed of myself, and my bottom burned furiously.

  “I love you, Frannie. That isn’t ever going to change, baby. No matter how angry I get. I don’t want you to ever think I’ll give up on us.” I felt better when he lifted me up and kissed me gently. “I love you, honey.”

  “I love you, too,” I tearfully assured him. I’d needed to hear those words so much, and from the relieved look in his beautiful dark eyes, I think he needed to hear me say them, too.

  “Good. Get dressed and come downstairs and give me a hand. We’ve got a kitchen to get done.” His hand gave me another smack; it was playful, of course, but on top of the spanking I’d just had, it caused me to cry out. My rotten husband just winked at me and grinned.

  He carried the wooden spatula downstairs and put it away, and just as we were getting started on the floor, the doorbell rang seconds before the door opened. We heard the tramping of feet through the house, and laughter. Mark stuck his head in the kitchen and grinned… “I brought reinforcements and pizza. If you promise not to throw any tools, little sis, we’ll have this floor tore up in no time at all, and we’ll get the new one put down tomorrow, after Church… If you’ll set up the grill and make us burgers?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, as I got to my feet and hurried across the room to give Mark a big hug. “I am so sorry for flying off the handle,” I said honestly, needing his forgiveness.

  “Yes, I figure you are. I bet you can’t sit, either,” Mark teased, then moved aside to let Luke and John in the kitchen. He gave me a brotherly hug, then said, “It’s okay, Frannie. I still love you bunches.” Matthew’s brothers worked together with lots of laughter, and as Mark promised, the old floor was up by the time the pizza was gone. Once they were done with that, the four of them got into Mark’s large truck, and Luke’s pick-up and they went to get what they needed for the next day. I made a trip to the supermarket to get buns, ground beef, and all the fixings for the best burgers ever. And, since my kitchen was completely torn up, I went over to my parents’ house and used Mom’s kitchen to make potato salad and a chocolate cake.

  My sister was there, too, and she noticed that I wasn’t sitting too well, and OF COURSE she couldn’t keep from asking me ‘why’. My parents were right there, OF COURSE; Dad was peeling the eggs for my potato salad, and Mom was cutting up an onion while I peeled the potatoes I’d cooked. And, OF COURSE, they were all ears! I didn’t really think it was any of Becky’s business, or my parents, but not answering would only prompt more questions. I shrugged, but answered truthfully, “I got a bit impatient that the remodeling is taking so long.”

  “Well, that certainly isn’t a crime,” my Mom defended me. She looked at Dad in that silent way they have, and it was one of those times I could picture my parent slipping into the next room, calling my husband, and chewing off his ear about being a bit more patient.

  “It is when you throw a hammer on the floor, and it bounces up and hits your brother-in-law in the knee,” I explained, my cheeks pink with embarrassment. My parents and sister were well acquainted with my temper, so they weren’t as shocked as you might think they would be. No, they didn’t approve, but they were sort of used to it after nearly twenty-two years of putting up with me.

  “Was Mark injured, dear?” my Mom was concerned. She’d practically adopted Matthew and his brothers once she learned their own parents were killed in an automobile accident about a year before Matthew and I met. John was only a senior in high school at the time, and his older siblings kept a close eye on him… The older two moving back into the family home. They’d needed each other and were close. Mom always included them on holidays, and they were part of the family. Her concern was very real, and I could see her mentally packing up heat wraps, ice packs, ibuprophen, and anything else she thought Mark could possibly need. Mom is like that.

  “He wasn’t hurt, Mom. Fortunately.” I was in a lot more pain than Mark was, but was anyone worried about me? Nope. My Dad remained silent on the subject, but the look on his face was easily interpreted… I deserved whatever Matthew gave me in the form of punishment. I would have pouted, but I happened to agree with Dad. It didn’t make sitting any easier, however.

  My nephews suddenly demanded everyone’s attention, to look at the drawings they’d made, and I managed to escape, with nothing more being said on the subject.

  Matthew and the guys were still working, but when I came home it seemed to be their signal to go home. “You don’t all have to leave the moment I get home.” I was feeling a bit hurt, and it must have shown on my face.

  “We have our orders, little sis,” Mark grinned. “Big brother wants you all to himself,” he teased me and laughed in delight when I blushed. “Besides, we Callahan men are irresistible. Luke, John, and I all have dates tonight.”

  “You, t
oo?” I looked at Mark in surprise.

  “Yeah, me, too,” he admitted a bit sadly, and I gave him a smile of encouragement. It was the first time he’d gone out since his girlfriend died.

  “Come on, Mark! I promised Jase I’d pick him up at nine, and then we’d get Amy and Gretchen,” John clapped Mark on the shoulder, and I was smart enough to realize that John was keeping Mark’s mind off the past.

  Mark nodded, then called out to Matthew, “I’ll leave the keys to the truck just in case you need to move it for some reason, Matt.” He dropped them in my hand, and gave John a nudge with his shoulder. “Let’s go, man. Women await.” The three of them stomped through the house and out the front door, closing it with a bang.

  Matt pounded one more nail, and then looked up at me. “I missed you tonight, Frannie.”

  “I missed you, too, and I cannot believe how much you’ve done in here already!” I complimented their efforts.

  “Mark is a slave driver!” Matt grinned at me. “He’s thinking of starting his own business.”

  “Wow, lots of changes for him. He’s finally moving on,” I hugged my dirty, smelly husband once he got up from the floor. “He’s got a date tonight.”

  “It’s not a date date, honey,” Matthew was careful to explain. “He’s trying to ease into that scene again. It’s just Molly.”

  “Oh,” I made a face of disappointment. Molly was raised next door to the Callahan brothers, and still lived there with her Mom. Mrs. Jefferson was seldom home, and Molly took care of the house for her while she traveled with her band.

  “Hey, it’s a big step for Mark. Losing Kathy hurt him deeply; he loved her almost as much as I love you.”

  My husband had that certain look in his dark eyes, and I kissed him again. I wanted him as much as he wanted me, and I needed to know I was completely forgiven for my tantrum. Making love the first time after a punishment was important to both of us. Matthew needed to know I still loved him, and I needed to know that he forgave me and still loved me. “I think someone needs a shower,” I whispered in what I hoped was a seductive tone of voice.

  “Want to come and wash my back?” he issued the invitation I was practically begging for, and I kissed him again, took his hand, and led him upstairs, making stops to shut off the lights, and lock up the house for the night. I loved my husband with all my heart, and thanked God for him each and every night before I fell asleep.

  Chapter Five

  Matthew and I survived the rest of the kitchen remodel, and when it was finished, it was so beautiful I stood there in the middle of the floor and cried tears of joy.

  I’d been raised to believe the kitchen was the heart of the home, and never had those words meant more to me than they did that day. Matthew had worked so hard… and Mark even said that he’d hire his older brother in a minute if Matt ever wanted to give up his line of work. The compliment pleased my husband, but projects of this sort were more of a hobby to him. My parents were pleased that their gift went to improve the value of our home, and Mom said my kitchen already felt ‘homey’, a huge compliment coming from Mom. I was so happy, and life seemed so perfect… and then Sierra moved next door.

  Matthew didn’t like her. He said she was everything he despised in a woman… Loud, brassy, coarse, vulgar, and obnoxious. She cursed; she drank too much; she smoked two packs of cigarettes a day; she slept around; she’d divorced three husbands… and she was only a year younger than Matt’s twenty-eight.

  I was fascinated by Sierra’s love for life. She seemed to have no fears, and was her own boss. She did exactly what she wanted to do, when she wanted to do it, and if someone didn’t like it, too bad. It was a novel concept for me, and it became a regular habit for Sierra and me to get together every morning for coffee and gossip.

  Matt didn’t really approve, but he wasn’t a dictator, and on the mornings that he was home because he had to work in the evening, I stayed home and kept him company. I didn’t invite Sierra over on those mornings, either. She knew how Matthew felt about her, and while it embarrassed me to hear her say so, she was very matter of fact about the whole situation.

  “Your husband is about as straight-laced as they come, Frannie. He wouldn’t use a bad word if I paid him.”

  “No, he wouldn’t. He hates it when people swear.”

  “He doesn’t approve of drinking or smoking, either,” she giggled merrily, lighting another cigarette.

  Since we were in her kitchen, I relaxed. Matthew threw a fit the one and only time that Sierra lit up in our house. He made it clear that if I was going to have her over I needed to make it clear there was to be no smoking inside the house, and he went so far as to tell me he didn’t want to find her butts littering our patio or yard. I said I was too embarrassed to tell her, and Matthew turned me over his knee and spanked me until I decided I could do as he said.

  “He’s an old-fashioned man, and a grump. I don’t know what you see in him, Frannie!”

  “Matthew is a wonderful husband,” I defended my husband.

  “As long as you do what he says,” she argued, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “You were just a child when you got married. You haven’t lived the least little bit.”

  “I’m very happy,” I protested, but inside I was wondering if she knew something I didn’t.

  “How do you know that?” she asked. “You have admittedly never gone to a club, and I’ll bet you never go out on a girls’ night.”

  “Well, no.” Sierra was making me feel as though I’d missed something fun and special.

  “See, there you go. You stay home and obey your hubby’s every little whim. What would he say if you told him you were going out on the town with me?”

  “He’d probably tell me to have a good time.” I rather doubted it, but I wasn’t going to say so.

  “No he wouldn’t. He’d get all prissy and tell you that you couldn’t go. And, instead of flipping him off and doing what you want to do, you’d stay home and pretend to be happy.” Sierra saw the shocked look on my face, and she laughed. “Oh my… Please tell me, what would happen in the Callahan household if you actually defied the Master’s wishes?”

  I wasn’t about to admit that Matthew would spank me, but I knew for a fact that using that gesture would earn me one very sore bottom. It would in my parents’ home, too. It simply wasn’t the sort of behavior I indulged in. I wasn’t about to admit that to Sierra, however. Some things were simply too private, and I couldn’t picture Sierra accepting a spanking from a man… not unless it was the kinky kind and done for sexual pleasure. Sierra would serve the man his testicles on a platter if he dared to suggest a spanking was in order. I was beginning to have doubts about my marriage… especially the discipline end of it, and I vowed to speak to Matthew that evening and tell him it was time for him to stop spanking me.

  “You’ve been talking to Sierra again, haven’t you?” Matthew asked with one raised eyebrow after I made my announcement.

  “Matthew, I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman now, and I seriously think you need to stop spanking me. I’m capable of making my own decisions about what is right and wrong.”

  “We agreed on a traditional marriage, Frannie,” he reminded me.

  “Yes, I know we did. But, that was then, and this is now. We’ve been married for over three years now, almost four… I don’t want a traditional marriage now. I’m a responsible adult.”

  Matthew looked at me long and hard, and I wondered what he was going to say. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, Mary Frances. No more spankings.”

  I should have been relieved but I wasn’t. In fact, I was scared. I felt as though the rug had been pulled out from under me. I felt as though I was flying through the air without a net. I had to calm my breathing because I was on the verge of panic.

  I fled to my kitchen and baked a pan of brownies, and put on a pot of soup. I always cooked when I was upset, and I spent the rest of the day in my kitchen, making one thing after another. At one point Matthew came out and asked me
what I was doing, and I announced I was putting food up for later… since I was going to go out and get a job.

  He looked at me in shock, and started to say something, but closed his mouth. Since we’d gone over this before, I knew his thoughts on the subject. We were still waiting for God to bless us with a child, but Matt didn’t think I should take a job just to quit it in a couple of months time should I be with child. He didn’t think it was fair to an employer, or that I should deprive someone else of a job they really needed. I had my Dad’s extra work to do, and that gave me a bit of income to call my own. Matt and I had managed to get a lot more done on the house sooner than anticipated because I saved almost everything I made. I was satisfied with my life the way it was, and I had no real desire to get a job, so I don’t know what made me throw that at Matthew. Maybe I was testing his resolve?

  Matthew just left the kitchen without a word… and I was miserable.

  Each morning that Sierra and I spent together seemed to drive Matthew and me further and further apart. We were fighting all the time, and arguing about everything. I kept waiting for him to lose his patience and spank me, but he didn’t. He opted for turning his back to me and walking out of the room. My temper grew worse, and I started throwing tantrums again. Even my parents noticed the change in my temperament, and Dad started giving Matthew dirty looks. I wasn’t happy. Matthew wasn’t happy. And Sierra suggested a divorce.