His Firm Guidance

by Constance Masters

  He rubbed her back soothingly as she continued to sob into her folded arms. “Shh. You’re ok.” he said, trying to calm her. “We’re almost done.”

  Whitney spun her wet face around to look at him, her eyes like saucers. “We’re not finished?”

  “No, Honey, we’re not. This was more than breaking a rule. This was big. What you did was a betrayal of trust, but it also could have gotten us into a lot of trouble financially.”

  “I know, but I’m really sorry.”

  “And you didn’t end up enrolling in school because you didn’t do what you agreed to do.”

  She started to cry again. “But I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s good, then it will make it easier for you to take the last parts of your punishments.”

  “Parts, punishments? As in plural?”

  Tyler nodded. “I want you to go back out to stand in the corner.”

  She nodded furiously, over the moon if that just standing was one part of what was required of her. “I can do that.” She pushed up off her husband’s lap and he stood up right after, taking her hand before she could walk away.

  “That’s not all.”

  Her tummy dropped. “You’re going to spank me again.”

  “Six whacks, with my belt.”

  Whitney’s furious nods had turned to disbelieving shakes. “Please.”

  “Go and stand in the corner. I’ll call you out when it’s time.”

  She walked back sadly to the same corner she’d been standing in before. It wasn’t a lot of comfort, but at that moment it was the most familiar place she could think of.

  This time Tyler didn’t call her out of the corner; he went and fetched her, leading her over to the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “I want you to lean on the counter and push your bottom out.”

  Whitney winced at the sound of Tyler’s belt as it hissed through the loops of his pants. When he folded it and cracked it across his hand, she jumped and then got into place quickly, not wanting to make things worse.

  When she was finally bent over, he rubbed the belt across her red cheeks and then drew it back.

  Whitney had never felt anything as painful as that first stripe of the belt. It was like a line of fire that burst across her already burning bottom. One hot line with little flickers of flame that crawled away from it, creeping all over her sensitive skin. She wanted to scream out so badly but she couldn’t. This was where they had to live and she didn’t want anyone to hear her. She stuffed one of her fists in her mouth and held her breath while she waited for the next and the next. By the time her punishment was over, she was sobbing so hard that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to stop. Then there was warmth. Tyler wrapped himself around her. He was saying nothing, but hugging her tightly, his steady breathing evening out her own ragged breaths. His breath was hot on the back of her neck. They stood like that for quite a while, saying nothing.

  “Am I forgiven?” Whitney asked over her creamy shoulder when she finally had herself under control.

  “Yes, you’re forgiven. I didn’t enjoy that, you know.”

  “Me either.”

  “I bet. Hopefully you’ll remember this night next time you get a good idea and you think you don’t have to run it by me.”

  Whitney nodded. “Can we look at our place together now?”

  “Of course.”

  They walked around the apartment together hand in hand, talking about how they would like to furnish different areas. When they’d circled twice, they ended up back in the bedroom where Whitney couldn’t resist checking out her bottom in the mirror.

  “It’s so red,” she muttered, almost to herself.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Hot, too,” she said skimming her hands over her hot bottom. As she looked at the damage and touched the marks left by Tyler’s belt, she could feel her pussy juices pooling.

  “Maybe I should take a closer look.” There was a definite bulge in his pants as he came up to stand behind her naked body.

  She closed her eyes to savor the exquisite tingles that followed his wandering hands as they skimmed over her taut nipples. He moved her long hair over her shoulder, giving him access to more of her. Goosebumps prickled across her alabaster skin, marred only by a sprinkling of freckles and the blush pink marks left by his trail of kisses.

  She tried to turn into his arms, but he stopped her, placing a finger to her lips.

  “Shhh. Close your eyes,” he said, his voice thick with need. He took her hands and pressed them against the wall where he wanted them, forcing her to bend and instinctively spread her legs to balance.

  Whitney moaned as he squeezed each cheek, spreading them apart and running his finger down the crack, across her puckered hole towards the center of her arousal. She waited with bated breath for him to touch her swollen nub, but he skirted right past it, instead stroking her wet pussy lips with long teasing strokes.

  “Please,” she panted.

  “Soon.” He slapped each quivering cheek, chuckling as she bit her lip. “Don’t move.”

  Her own ragged breathing sounded loud in her ears in the empty room, as did each item of clothing leaving her husband’s body. She wished she could turn and look. Touch him. Taste him. She was so focused on guessing where he was up to, how much longer she had to wait, that she didn’t notice that he was back behind her until his hands pressed firmly into her hips.

  He slammed into her full force, while suckling at the crook of her neck.

  “Oh, baby…” she breathed, the air leaving her lungs with a whoosh. She planted her feet firmly on the floor and pushed her ass back against him, reveling in the feeling of fullness as he took her hard and fast.

  “Oh, my, Whit, you feel so good.” He wound a long strand of her hair in his hand and tugged as his thrust deepened.

  “Touch me,” she whimpered. “Please.”

  His hand this time went straight to her engorged nub, rolling and flicking it with his fingers. “You like?” he growled into her ear.

  “Oh, yes, yes.” Heat and sensitivity centered on that one spot as he slowed his thrusts to concentrate on her pleasure. When her pussy twitched around his cock, he removed his hand, slowing her so he could catch up. “Don’t stop!” she whined.

  “Shh.” He pounded into her so hard, she had to spread her hands on the wall even further to stay steady.

  It made it impossible to touch herself like she wanted to, but as his cock beat against her front wall rhythmically, a heat began to wash over her entire body. Her clit still thumped, begging for its own attention. “Ty…ler…” she started, the words she was trying to form melting away and becoming a high-pitched hum as her body was engulfed with mindless bliss. Wave after glorious wave of thumping pleasure pulsed through her body and Tyler roared, spilling himself inside her.

  * * *

  “Do you think your mom and dad will know where we were and what we were doing?”

  “No. It’s late. They’re most likely tucked up in bed sound asleep.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Whitney, we’re married, remember? We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know, even if we hadn’t been married, there was NOTHING wrong with that,” she said, yawning. “Well, not that last bit, anyway.”

  Tyler took her hand. “Tired?”

  “Exhausted. It’s been some day, that’s for sure.”

  “One of the biggest.”

  “One of the best.”

  By the time they pulled up outside the Jacksons’ house, Whitney was sound asleep, her body turned towards the window slightly to keep some of her bottom off the seat. Tyler gently maneuvered her into his arms and trudged into the house, careful not to wake her.

  “Did I fall asleep?” Whitney asked, blinking her eyes open to find herself in familiar surroundings.

  “Were you playing possum?” he chuckled.

  “No. Tired,” she mumbled with a yawn.

  “Now you know why I insisted you shower at our apartment
. I knew you’d be too tired when we got home. Lucky I threw a couple of towels and a bar of soap in the car.”

  “I don’t wanna sleep in these clothes.”

  “Fine with me.” Tyler pulled off her tank top and then her bra. He tapped her bottom. “Lift up,” he said, yanking off her skirt when she did so. He threw off his own clothes and jumped in beside her.

  “It’s cold.”

  “I’ll keep you warm,” he said, snuggling her onto his chest.

  “I’m gonna miss this bed.”

  “Me too.” Tyler yawned.

  Chapter Six

  Finally settled into their new apartment. Whitney was excited to spend her first full day at home. She felt like a housewife from the fifties as she puttered around vacuuming floors and polishing furniture. She even baked a batch of cookies; well, she cut them off a refrigerated roll from the supermarket, but the thought was there. She did put them in the oven, which is the act of baking. She went down to their very own mailbox that was labeled with ‘Mr. and Mrs. Jackson.’ That gave her a kick. She was a Mrs., a grownup at last. She gathered the mail. It was all junk. No point filling up the apartment she’d just cleaned with papers they didn’t need, she thought as she passed the recycling bin. She tossed it in with a smile. She was really good at this housewife stuff.

  By lunchtime there wasn’t anything left that needed her attention besides the dirty clothes; she would gladly put off that chore another day if she could. Tyler still had shirts left. She opened the door to the terrace and looked out over the pool. Nobody, not a soul. The imagined horde of young wives she thought she’d meet just didn’t seem to be there. Not today anyway. Nothing for it, she’d have to check out the laundry room. She emptied the hampers into a large basket and collected some detergent and fabric softener before heading downstairs.

  The basket was piled high and she was forced to peer around the clothes to see where she was going. Maneuvering her way into the room, she dropped her load onto the floor to find several smiling faces peering at her.

  “New blood,” a cute brunette said, giving her a wave. “Hi. I’m Theresa.”

  “Hi. Whitney.” She returned the wave and smiled at the rest as they introduced themselves. She discovered that two of the girls were her age although a couple were younger. One girl was only twenty and another was thirty-two.

  “Whitney Jackson? You just move in?” the oldest, a girl called Riley, asked.

  “We moved in Saturday,” Whitney explained. “Hence the giant load of laundry. We’ve spent most of the time unpacking.”

  “Ahh,” Theresa said. “Well, you’ve picked the right day. Today is the day we meet up in here and do our laundry, while we catch up,” she said, holding up a bottle of hooch.

  “Oh, really,” Whitney said with a grin. “I wondered why there was no one around.”

  “I know it seems a little seedy, but it’s not really,” Sandy, the twenty-year-old, said. “Our husbands have their business lunches; it’s only fair that we get to have some fun too.”

  Whitney shrugged. “I guess so.” she frowned. This girl looked like she should be getting her dress ready for the senior prom, not down here drinking alcohol while she watched people wash their husband’s shirts. “Didn’t you say you were only twenty?”

  “I’ll be twenty-one in five months. Besides. If I’m old enough to wash my husband’s socks, I’m old enough to have a drink.”

  “I suppose so,” Whitney said, wondering how old the girl’s husband was.

  “So you in?” Theresa asked, holding up an empty disposable cup.

  “I don’t really like hard liquor,” Whitney said, screwing up her nose.

  “Me either,” a girl called Jenna said. “What about a beer?” She passed over a bottle and Whitney smiled and took it.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. “Are there any spare machines?”

  “Sure. Take your pick. If you load up a couple of machines at once, it’ll take less time.”

  “Good idea.” Whitney took a swig of her beer and placed it next to one of the machines while she started loading.

  “Is there a reason why you drink in here and not out by the pool?” Whitney asked. “I just assumed everyone would do what they had to do and then go and sit by the pool or go to the gym or play tennis.”

  “Not allowed to drink in the common areas,” Theresa said.

  “Oh?” Whitney wondered where they heard that. “Isn’t this a common area?”

  “Yes, but the super isn’t likely to come down here and check,” Jenna giggled. “Besides, there are plenty of places to hide stuff in here. Pretty hard to shove a beer down your bikini.”

  “What would they do to you anyway if you did get caught?”

  “Two-hundred-dollar fine.”

  “Can they even do that?” Whitney asked.

  “According to the handbook, they can.”

  Whitney hadn’t seen a handbook. Tyler must have gotten it when he signed the lease, she mused. She shoved their things into two machines and then plopped herself on top of one. “So what do you bad girls do to pass the time beside this?” she asked happily.

  “Smoke?” Emily, a girl a little older than Sandy offered.

  “No, thanks,” she said, holding up a hand.

  “You sure?” the girl giggled, noticing Whitney’s longing look.

  This was a discussion that she hadn’t had with Tyler since they were younger when all he used to do was berate her about things. She knew how it would end this time if he were to get wind that she’d taken up smoking again after he’d helped her through the painful process of giving up the first time. She shook her head. She could only just sit really comfortably after the discussion she and Tyler had had on that first night. It wasn’t something she was looking to jump into again so fast.

  “No, really,” she said.

  By the time Whitney’s two loads of laundry had been washed and dried, she felt like she’d been friends with these girls for ages. She knew all about their husbands and their families and a lot about the other people who lived in the other apartments. None of them realized how late it had gotten.

  “I have to go,” Theresa said, jumping off the machine she was perched on and gathering up her basket.

  The party broke up and Whitney was a little worried when she checked the time on her phone. It was well after five and she had three missed calls. She didn’t even bother to check her messages, but picked up her basket of folded laundry and hurried out.

  * * *

  She winced when she pressed the button for the elevator just as Tyler came through the main door. Not that she wasn’t pleased to see him. She was. She would have felt better if she had a nice meal at least started like she’d promised.

  “Good timing,” he said with a wide smile as he bent to kiss her. He took the basket from her and sniffed. “I can smell smoke.”

  “Oh?” Whitney said, trying to look innocent.

  “Yes. Can’t you smell it?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “I met some girls today in the laundry room. They were really friendly.”

  “That’s great, Honey. Was one of them smoking?”

  “Yeah, a couple of them, actually.” She was so pleased that she could say that with a smile and know she hadn’t done anything wrong. “I wasn’t. Their smoke must have just gotten on my clothes.”

  “So tell me about them. Are they nice?”

  “Really nice,” she said. “I’m going to meet them again tomorrow.”

  “Oh, good, Whit. I’m proud of you. You’ve been doing a great job with the housework and I’m pleased that you’ve been able to make some friends.”

  Whitney pushed her hair behind her ear and tried to make the guilt that flashed through her go with it. “I’m sorry I’m a bit late, but I’m going to make you a spectacular dinner.”

  “It’s ok. I don’t expect you to have my dinner on the table the minute I walk in.”

  “Still. I want to make a nice home for you.”

/>   The elevator dinged and they stepped out.

  “I might not be able to make you a spectacular dinner tonight, but I will make you a nice one.”

  “Sure. You can run me a bath and bring me my slippers while I wait.”

  “If that’s what you want,” Whitney said, wondering if he realized how bossy and sexist that sounded.

  “I’m joking with you, silly. We can just have something light tonight.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “No. Of course I don’t.”

  “Thanks. You’re too good to me.” Really. She was a terrible person. A lazy liar who had spent the afternoon drinking while her husband was at work and he was being so nice to her.

  “You’re welcome, sweetie,” he said holding open the door while she walked through.

  While Tyler was in the shower, Whitney found a can of soup to heat and lay out the plate of cookies she’d made for dessert. Another pang of guilt hit her as she looked the meager offering. Grace would never serve up canned soup and store-mixed and refrigerated cookies. Everything she made looked like it was from the page of a cookbook.

  “The place looks really nice,” Tyler said as he came out towel-drying his hair.

  “Dinner’s ready. Look, I baked cookies.”

  “So you did,” Tyler grinned. “Aren’t you clever?”

  “Yeah, clever.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just feel like I kind of let you down.”

  “This is fine, Whit.”

  “I bet your mom never would have served anything like this for dinner.”

  “Believe it or not, I didn’t know my mom when she was a newlywed. You can’t compare yourself. She’d had a while to get it all down pat.”

  “I guess.”

  “So what do you have planned tomorrow?”

  “Oh, not much. I’m just going to meet the girls and go to the gym or something. After I clean up and stuff.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Yeah. I do really like the girls here.”

  “Hmm. I’m sure you’ll still be able to make time for your new friends after you’ve done your schoolwork.”