Rebellious Bride

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  Taking her place in the corner, holding her shift in her hands, Abigail’s heart pounded hard as the minutes of the clocked ticked by, and she waited for someone to see her like this. She hoped against hope that no one would discover the awesome scene. But, much to Abigail’s chagrin, there was a knock on the door just as she thought Aaron would let her go for the afternoon. Her husband, proving it was no empty threat to show her off like this, beckoned the man to enter.

  From the moment he walked in the door, Abigail was certain that whoever it was stared at her the whole time he was inside the office. Thankfully, she wouldn’t know, since she kept her head tucked in the corner, too mortified to meet the man eye-to-eye.

  The only mention of her penitent state was Aaron’s casually rendered, “a little domestic discipline,” a comment that made Abigail shiver all the more with embarrassment.

  “Good idea,” the man replied. “Let me know if the treatment works, my own wife could stand a good going over once and a while.”

  To that, Aaron answered with a confident. “It’ll work, trust me, it’ll work.”

  a

  The weeks that followed were often grim and at other times filled with wild wonderful moments for Abigail and her husband. Mostly however, Abigail would remember the grim times.

  Darcy, once she was well—which only took a few days—joined Abigail in “hard labor” at the mill, scrubbing floors and windows, hauling small loads of lumber—all these tasks on top of the ones that Abigail always did to tend to her home. There didn’t seem to be any time to rest. Abigail figured her husband’s harsh sentence was intended to keep the two “out of trouble.” And his plan seemed to work. They were too exhausted every evening to think of anything but a warm meal and sleep.

  In addition to the work, every Friday for four weeks—not counting Abigail’s first rude paddling—Aaron brought the two brats into his office individually and gave them “what for”. Darcy always went first, Aaron making the shameless young woman raise her skirt or lower her britches, depending on what she wore, and then bend over the edge of his desk to receive her punishment. He usually began with a leather strap or his belt and then finished her off with a dozen good hearty whacks of the wood paddle. Though she was a stubborn woman, determined not to flinch, Aaron always continued until the woman “broke”, her bottom usually a roughed-up rash of crimson and the pain so intense she’d cry out for mercy. Oddly, Darcy accepted the punishment as justified, and didn’t try to bolt or weasel out of it. Aaron began to believe that she truly considered Abigail’s plight her own. As long as Abby was being punished, she would stay and take hers until it was finished.

  Each Friday, Abigail heard Darcy’s woes from outside the office while she waited in a chair by the door. She would see her friend leave with a chagrined smile. Though she never said a word, but Abby could tell the young woman was suffering by the way she gingerly walked from the building. There was no sass or impudence in her, but a measure of vexation, as the independent and spirited tomboy found herself confronted by a formidable opponent in Aaron Barrow.

  Unlike her friend, Abigail was always punished over Aaron’s lap. While in the past that hadn’t been the case—when going over a table or the back of chair seemed to fit Aaron’s sense of justice just as well—it seemed important this time that his wife have the intimate experience of being held closing to him while he administered her discipline. Such a design did nothing to soften the punishment sessions however. Abigail found that Aaron could be as ruthless with her in his lap as he could be at some distance. And being over his lap was more personal. Since he took her bad behavior as a personal attack against him, he wanted her to feel that way about it too.

  At each session, Aaron required her to strip to her shift and stockings. She wasn’t sure whether it was because Aaron was bothered by the bulk of her clothes, or because it made her all the more submissive to him. In any event, she always felt meek as a lamb standing before him with little to clothe her body. It clearly put him in an authoritarian position over her; the very idea of which made her quake in a strange but remarkable way. For two of the sessions, Aaron began with his doubled belt, walloping her fast and hard until all her naked posterior was flaming red. Then for one session, he changed to the paddle in midstream. For all three sessions, he changed when he was nearly finished, putting down his implements and striking her briskly with the palm of his hand. This always had the effect of making her feel even more ashamed of herself. This, her husband, her dearly beloved husband, with the same hands that loved her, was chastising her sternly. Of all the sting and all the pain she endured, this was the worst. It almost felt as if Aaron was crying with her as she would begin to bellow and wail from the pain she was feeling. At the end, it was always the same: a few brief moments of rest across his firm thighs and then she was pushed to her feet, required to stand before him as he verbally reminded her why these sessions were so important. Each time, she was ordered to the corner of the office and made to stand there for nearly ten minutes until her cries were over and her bottom was only a pale pink. To her relief, after that first maverick session with Aaron, no one entered the office at these intimate times, as if the men in the mill knew that it was not the time to interrupt the remarkable couple.

  In the aftermath of these sessions, though it was difficult for him, Aaron never let his physical desires for Abigail run free. He would have liked nothing better than to have taken her in his arms right in his office and made love to her, but he knew that that would not help get his important message across.

  At other times during these weeks, when the punishment sessions were far from either of their minds, Aaron Barrow was warm and affectionate and very sexual with her. Their love-life bloomed with such tawdry bedroom scenes it gave Abigail a blush on her cheeks as rosy as the ones Aaron left on her bottom, just to think of it. In some remarkable, but completely perplexing way, the husband and wife were drawing closer each day. Abigail’s thoughts of her husband were more sweet and sensuous and tender than they’d ever been. For every bit of attention to her, including her spankings, he thrilled her to the bone.a

  You’re looking especially chipper today,” Darcy observed one afternoon. The two were outside the mill raking away old leaves and debris that cluttered the yard.

  “I am,” Abigail replied with a sigh.

  Darcy smiled back at her, no doubt she was thinking, this being the fourth Friday, that her sentence was one session from being over for good.

  “You know, I’m beginning to feel myself coming alive again,” Darcy said. She had a winsome, kind of wandering look in her eyes.

  “What’s that suppose to mean?” Abigail asked.

  “Oh! I’d give anything just to put these rakes down and walk up to the steam, take off my clothes and swim naked in that pond. What do you say? A little moment of bliss couldn’t hurt. After all, Aaron’s not going to be back until nearly supper time. What do you say?”

  Abigail thought for a minute. “I’d say it sounds like a great idea, but …”

  “But what?” Darcy asked.

  “I guess, things are so good between Aaron and me right now, I don’t want to mess it up.”

  Darcy shook her head in feigned exasperation. “You’re going to lose your spark,” she said.

  “Well, maybe a little. But, you know there are other things to get excited about these days.” She was thinking right then of how Aaron had made love to her to passionately the night before.

  “Yeah, maybe you do?” Darcy agreed.

  Abigail watched, as Darcy contemplated the thought for some moments, and then as she put the rake aside by the steps to the mill.

  “You know, I think it’s time,” she said.

  “Time for what?” Abigail asked.

  “Time to move on.”

  “You’re going to leave?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to leave. You’re a lucky woman to have a man like Aaron. I wish I did, but there aren’t many around that could hold my interest.”
/>
  “Maybe if you stayed in one place long enough you’d find one,” Abigail pointed out.

  “Maybe. But there sure as heck aren’t any here.”

  “So you’re going, just like that?”

  “Yeah,” Darcy replied, as if she’d just made up her mind. “You can handle that last session with Aaron by yourself, can’t you?”

  “Sure. I mean you could have gone anytime. Aaron wasn’t forcing you to stay.”

  “No. But my sense of justice was. But now, I can’t stand the thought of that belt on my ass again. I think I’ll go before the old guy gets back.”

  Abigail sighed, knowing it was just like Darcy to end things this way. Going back to raking, she watched as Darcy made her way to the house to get her things. Such a remarkable friend, a woman with such spirit and wanderlust. She’d miss her. And yet, she knew that Darcy Greenwood’s fortunes were in a different place than hers, and hers were definitely with the man she loved.

  a

  It was nearly dark when Aaron Barrow returned from his trip up river. For nearly an hour, Abigail had been waiting for him in his office, expecting her last session with him. It was a warm night, so warm that she didn’t feel chilled at all waiting for her husband in nothing but her shift and stockings, just as she imagined he would want her.

  “Abby, what are you doing here?” Aaron asked, as he came through the door.

  “Isn’t this where you want me on Friday night?” she asked.

  “But I didn’t expect you to wait here for me like this. It might have been a long time, if my trip had been delayed.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. It’s given me some time to think.” The mill was quiet at that hour. The machinery silent, the workers had gone home for the day. There was a peacefulness about the place that she found pleasant, even if she was waiting for the wrath of the paddle and his hand.

  “Think?” Aaron asked. “Think about what?”

  “About you and me.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. You know Darcy’s gone.”

  “Looks that way doesn’t it?” He didn’t seem to care.

  “She told me to thank you for everything, but she didn’t really want to stay around for another session.”

  “You know that’s her problem,” Aaron said. “There will always be something to take her somewhere else, so she’ll never really get her feet grounded in anything.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Abigail agreed.

  “So what about you?” Aaron asked.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you’re here, you’re waiting. You’re not even protesting,” he said.

  “Because I love you Aaron, more than anything in the world. And maybe I’m finally growing up to be the woman you want. You know today, Darcy wanted me to take off with her this afternoon. Go skinny dipping in the pond. I thought about it, like it was just a little innocent thing. But I decided against it. Not that I really like raking the mill yard, but I guess I just didn’t want to disappoint you again. And I knew you’d be disappointed. I suppose this whole thing has made me think beyond myself, think about you and your feelings. Maybe I am growing up.” She shrugged, feeling for an instant a little foolish with her revelations, though Aaron didn’t seem to be treating them that way. “Anyway, that’s what I was thinking about while I was waiting for you.”

  “Pretty good thoughts, I’d say,” he replied.

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. And as hard as these last few weeks have been on you, they’ve been good for both of us.”

  “But I have to admit, I’m glad they’re almost over. They are almost over, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “So does that mean, that maybe, you’ll let this last session go?” she wondered hopefully.

  Aaron smiled and shook his head “no”, then he sat down in a chair on the other side of the room. “Means nothing of the sort, my fine brat. Come here.”

  Abigail’s heart sank.

  “You’re really going through with it?” she asked sheepishly.

  “You’re ready for it, aren’t you, dressed in nothing but your shift?”

  “I guess I am.” For the first time all that night, she was shivering, not from cold, but from that same wickedly horribly wonderful feeling she got just before she was spanked.

  “Over the lap,” Aaron said, pulling her down.

  She was lying over his thighs a moment later, the palm of Aaron’s hand going down on her bottom with a flurry of hotfired strokes.

  “Ouch, ouch, oh no!” she wailed. She wasn’t sure whether the long wait had made it worse; and she could hardly believe it was true, but this hand spanking seemed worse than any that she’d had with the belt and paddle. To her surprise, Aaron wasn’t stopping after a few minutes because his hand was smarting. No, he was paddling her behind without stopping, one smack after another.

  “Ouch, Aaron please!” she cried.

  He just kept going. Another flourish, then a brief pause, then another. Her bottom was on fire.

  “I can’t stand it!” she howled.

  “Oh, yes you can. You’ve stood a lot more,” Aaron assured her.

  “Ouch, yeow!”

  She was in tears.

  The smacks rained down while she wiggled and squirmed. Throughout the whole ordeal, she tried to wrench away until she was worn out. She wanted to continue her protests, but her body was feeling limp and unable to move.

  Aaron stopped at last.

  Just like the other sessions, Abigail remained over her husband’s knees while there was a moment of awesome quiet when neither said a word and neither one moved. But unlike the other sessions, just when Abigail expected Aaron to push her from his lap and make her stand in the corner, he began to fondle her hot behind with the same palm of his hand that had so ruthlessly spanked her. Unlike the other times, his intentions were definitely erotic, and it didn’t take but seconds for her to be swept up in the glorious feelings that were racing through her everywhere.

  “Oh, Aaron yes!” she changed her pleas. She wanted more, and for all her asking, he was giving her just that. Aaron’s hand played with her ass cheeks, and then dropped between her slightly parted thighs and began to caress her womanhood until it was too difficult for either one to hold back any longer. Pulling her off his lap and into his arms, he moved her to the desk where their love making continued. Penetrating her swiftly, he held her close to him as they rocked together into the sweet crescendo of body bliss. Both exploded with an orgasmic moment, as Aaron’s strong hands massaged Abigail’s magnificent rear cheeks. Exhausted in the aftermath, the two fell together into the chair where Aaron held his wife on his lap and they hugged close. It was hot and stuffy in the mill office, but neither one was considering that at the moment.

  “Does growing up mean I can’t have mischievous thoughts anymore?” Abigail finally said, pulling away from her husband just enough so that she could see the expression on his face.

  “What kind of question is that?” Aaron asked, suspiciously.

  “A mischievous one,” she said.

  “I think you’d better explain.”

  “Well, when Darcy suggested that we take off and go skinny dipping in the stream, I really did want to go.”

  “But you didn’t want to upset me,” Aaron said.

  “No, I didn’t want to upset you, but even more …” Her eyes held a devilish gleam that he’d seen so often from her—one he treasured even though he had a right to be suspect of it. “Even more,” she went on, “I wanted to go with you.”

  Aaron looked at her surprised. “You mean you wanted to run naked with me into the night, and dive into the water and play? Is that the kind of naughty, mischievous thoughts you were thinking of?” he asked.

  Her look was coy and womanly and alluring, and very appealing. “Exactly,” she said.

  Aaron flashed her a dazzling grin while his eyes gleamed merrily. “No, my love, growing up doesn’t mean that you can’t have mischievous thoug
hts anymore,” he said. “As long you’re including me in your plans.”

  With that, the two stripped down to nothing at all, and venturing out into the sultry warm night, they made their way together to the stream and the pool of warm water and the lush comfort of each other’s arms.

  “Cooling the fire on your bottom, Abby?” Aaron asked her, when they were embracing in the fine feeling liquid.

  “I don’t know if I want to. It feels awfully good,” she replied with a wicked smile. And they kissed again, and he slapped her bottom a dozen more times before the night was over, and they both began to think that the rebellious bride had finally been tamed. Though only time would tell.

  The End

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  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.