A Spanking Good New Year: Short Story Collection Read online

  “You mean you listening to me getting spanked,” she said the words slowly and deliberately. “Say it, Troy. Stop pussyfooting around and say what you mean. You don’t like listening to your wife getting her bottom spanked.”

  He ignored her, pointedly, and she let out a loud guffaw, as she gaped at him. “Good lord, Troy! You can’t even say the word, can you?”

  Sighing with exasperation, he pulled the truck into their driveway, and twisted the key to shut off the engine, before turning towards her. “Of course, I can say the word, Aurelia. I went to an Ivy League school and I have an extensive vocabulary. Do not be ridiculous.”

  “Then say it, Troy. Because, as you so kindly pointed out – this is not the first time we have had this conversation, and I do believe I’ve never heard you say it. So, Mr. Ivy League, if you have a problem with something, the best thing to do is express yourself in a clear and concise manner and begin working towards a resolution.”

  The sentence was one that he said to her often. In their home, and their marriage, they resolved their issues with rational discussions between two adults. Which was what made it so completely mind-blowing to watch her morph into the spoiled rotten nasty teenage girl she had been in high school, the second they stepped through the door of her parents’ house.

  “Fine,” he growled, knowing when he was stuck. “I do not particularly like hearing my adult wife get her bottom spanked, which I’ve told you before, many times. Maybe not in so many words, Aurelia, but you know how I feel, and yet, whenever we go to your parents’, you turn into a whole different person.”

  “I’m the exact same person, Troy. You just don’t see it at home. You have serious blinders on when it comes to me and my behavior.”

  He had no response for that, and he felt like this conversation was going nowhere fast. Shooting her a look of disbelief, he sighed. “Maybe there are things I let slide, but you’re a good wife, Aurelia – until we go to your parents, and you know what will happen. It happens every single time. So, why? Why do you behave like that?”

  “Are you serious, Troy? You really don’t know? You haven’t managed yet, in all these years to put A and B together and come up with C?”

  He stared at his wife, completely baffled. “No Aurelia, I can honestly say that I certainly have no rational idea why you would start a food fight with your sister at Christmas dinner.”

  The look she shot him was one of pure disgust, tinted with a hint of embarrassment, causing him to be confused even further. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned to stare out the window.

  “Ria.” Troy sighed, tapping his wife on the shoulder, trying to get her attention to continue the conversation. “Ria, I feel like I’m missing something big here, and you won’t tell me what it is. So I’m going to ask one more time. Why is it that you act up so much at your parents’ knowing full well how the night will end?”

  She turned and glared at him again, and his heart sank. “Are you mad at me? Is this some kind of test where all these years I was supposed to step in and attempt to protect you, and I keep failing the test? I can’t pass a test I don’t know I’m taking!” He didn’t add that her father was a force to be reckoned with, and it was a test he couldn’t have passed if he tried.

  That finally elicited a giggle from her and she turned back to him, unbuckling as she scooted across the bench seat, laying her hand on his thigh, and looking down at an imaginary spot on the upholstery. “No, Troy, you’re not failing a test. Well,” she corrected, “not that test anyway.”

  “I don’t understand.” He wanted to, but he just didn’t.

  “I know.” Ria’s sigh was long suffering, as she wrung her hands together, refusing to look at him. “I act up at my parents’ because I don’t get spanked at home, and as stupid as it is, sometimes I just miss it. And I guess I have this fantasy in my head that since it bothers you so much when my father does it, maybe that you’ll step in and spank me instead so he doesn’t have to. It sounds stupid. It is stupid, I know it is. I’m really sorry, Troy. I won’t do that anymore. I promise.”

  There wasn’t a single thing she could have said that would have shocked him more. He stared at her dumbfounded, as his mouth and mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. “You miss being spanked? But… but… you’re a married woman.”

  “Yeah, I’m a married woman living in a town where every other married woman gets spanked.”

  “Exactly. And it’s a bit archaic, is it not? I assumed you would consider yourself lucky to be married to me.” Even as it came out, he chuckled to himself at how cocky it sounded, and Aurelia laughed too.

  “I am lucky to be married to you. But it’s not because you don’t spank. That’s actually your one downfall.” She said it with a smile, and he could see that it was meant lightheartedly, but the truth hit him like a ton of bricks right in the gut.

  “You… wish I spanked you? But… for what?”

  The look she gave him spoke volumes. “Troy, can we just go inside? I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  She hadn’t, he had, but that didn’t really matter at the moment. His world had spun on its axis and everything he had believed about the way he ran his home had been shattered with a single sentence. Still, Aurelia was right – there was no reason to be having this conversation sitting in their driveway. Casting one last look of disbelief in her direction, he hopped out of the truck, walking around to her side to open the door for her. He offered his arm, as he always did, and she took it, but didn’t even look at him as they made their way inside.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, she made for the stairs.

  “Aurelia. Stop.” His voice possessed a firmness he didn’t even know he had, and to his surprise, it stopped Aurelia in her tracks. Her eyes were full of expectation when she turned to him.

  He swallowed deeply, knowing what she expected, and also knowing that it wasn’t something he could give her. Not yet. “Sit down.” He gestured to the couch, and she sat immediately. He was a mix of emotions – pleasure at the lack of unnecessary argument, warring with the place deep inside telling him he was being a controlling heel. He sat next to her, wanting to feel they were still as equal as he has always considered them to be, even though he had felt the unspoken shift.

  Aurelia looked happy and hopeful, but also scared, and he realized with a start how vulnerable she was, and also how long she must have been keeping this from him. He cleared his throat. “You can’t just say something like that, and then run off and not discuss it with me further.”

  “Okay.” Her voice was small and weak, and he could see how scared she was. He was an intellectual; feelings were hard for him. Any other time, he would have let this go. He might have let her walk away, and analyzed the situation, and prepared a compelling argument, maybe even a chart or a graph, or at the very least find research to back up his position. Then, when they were both ready they would re-visit the problem and have a calm rational discussion. It was how they operated. He was intelligent enough to know that that wouldn’t work this time. There were no charts, or graphs or compelling arguments he could use to prove that his wife shouldn’t want to be spanked. There was nothing he could do but hear her out.

  They stared at each other in complete silence for several minutes, neither knowing where to begin. Both were holding so strongly to their own set of beliefs and knowing that whatever the other person said, their beliefs were going to be utterly shattered. It might just be the hardest conversation they had ever had. Yet, it had to be done. He knew that.

  “You want me to spank you?”

  Her pale face turned a lovely shade of pink instantly and she picked at an imaginary fuzz ball on her velvet slacks. “I know it’s stupid,” she whispered thickly. “I’m sure most women here would love to have married someone who doesn’t spank. I love that you treat me like an equal, and value my opinion, and don’t have unrealistic expectations for me.”

  “Right. We’re fifty/fifty, both of us have an equal role in our
home. I believe that it’s imperative to a healthy marriage.”

  “It’s who you are Troy – impeccably fair to a fault, and I love you for it – but, your fairness and the respect you show me is a double edged sword. It makes me think you’d make an excellent HOH.”

  “HOH?” His brow furrowed, and he stared at her blankly, running through acronyms in his head and coming up blank for anything that would fit the conversation they were having.

  “Head of house.”

  Even hearing the words strung together left a bad taste in his mouth. “I don’t want my wife to be one of those women, Aurelia. And I don’t want to be one of those men. You’re my wife, a gift chosen especially for me, and I could never take pleasure in making you feel like that wasn’t enough.”

  Memories of his childhood were at the forefront of his mind. He had been raised here in Green Valley, in a domestic discipline household. His father had been heavy handed and domineering to a fault. He wasn’t abusive in the way he ran his house, but he had controlled his wives’ every move, from what they wore, to what time they rose, to what they made for dinner. As the only other male in a houseful of women, he had been subject to listening to his father’s many disparaging and misogynistic rants. He had vowed to never have a marriage that looked like his parents’. To never look at his wife the way his father had sometimes looked at his mothers, and to never be the source of his wives’ pain or tears.

  Aurelia knew all this. She scooted closer to him, looking at him for the first time since they sat down. “There can be balance, you know. You can believe that I am your equal and still punish me when it’s needed. I know you don’t see it because of your past and the way you grew up, but this doesn’t have to be an either or situation. Domestic discipline and feminism are not mutually exclusive.”

  “I don’t see how. And, I honestly can’t think of a single thing I would ever want to spank you for, Ria. I just cannot. You’re an amazing wife.”

  Her mouth fell open as she looked at him. “There’s nothing that I do that drives you crazy? There’s not a single time you can think of that a spanking might have been an acceptable solution? You can’t think of one?”

  He shook his head. “I honestly can’t.”

  “I can think of at least a dozen.”

  “Besides the times at your parents’? Those don’t count. I’m talking about normal circumstances in our normal married lives.”

  She nodded gravely. “At least a dozen times I have honestly thought how much easier it would be if you would just spank me.”

  “But it’s a fleeting thought, right? And then we’ve worked out whatever it is, without resorting to that, and you’ve been glad we don’t work that way, right?”

  “Not really.”

  The strength and certainty in her admission floored him. “I… I can see I’m still missing something, maybe several somethings. Why do you want me to spank you, Aurelia? What benefit can it possibly have?”

  She shrugged, her whole body turning from him, and started to stand as her eyes filled with tears. “Never mind, Troy.”

  “Stop. Sit down.” There it was, that voice again.

  This time, she glared at him, as if it physically pained her. “You’re not going to understand. It’s not who you are. You need facts and charts and research, and I don’t have any of that. I only have my irrational emotions. And you don’t like emotion, or things that aren’t rational. And I don’t have it in me to sit here and try to explain things to you that you’re never going to get. I can’t do it.” She sighed, and shook her head sadly as she stood. “I love you. You’re an amazing husband. It’s okay that you can’t fill this need. Just don’t get mad when I occasionally get it filled elsewhere.”

  “You mean from your father?” There was nothing rational about the anger that filled him at the thought. Her father was a good man, strict, but reasonable. The spanking hadn’t bothered him as much before, as it suddenly did now.

  He caught her arm, stopping her before she could leave the room. “I don’t like that, Ria. I like it even less now. I don’t want you getting something from him that you would rather have from me. I don’t want him thinking I’m a failure as a husband, because I can’t meet every single one of your needs. It’s my job to give you the things you need, Ria, even this.”

  It happened before he knew what he was doing. One minute she was pulling from his grasp as she fought off sobs, and the next minute she was bottoms up over his knee staring at the carpet.

  His wife was tall, and gorgeous, to be perfectly honest; she could have been a model. Her long legs dangled precariously on the edge of the couch, and her black slacks clung to every curve of her heart shaped bottom.

  Her sobs had calmed to shudders interspersed with hiccups and he could hear the sharp intake of breath as she waited to see if he would really do it.

  To tell the truth, he was wondering the exact same thing. He wanted to make his wife happy. He wanted to be the one to fill all of her needs. And, yeah, he admitted to himself, he wanted her to stop behaving like a child every time they were anywhere near her father.

  He had no idea what he was doing, as he raised his hand in the air, poising it above her left cheek. He still felt the same; short of throwing food, she had done nothing to deserve such harsh and juvenile treatment. She had already been punished today – a fact she had apparently gone out of her way to ensure.

  Inspiration struck. His hand fell, startling him as it landed against the soft velvet fabric of her slacks with a startling loudness. The gasp of surprise that fell from her lips was all the encouragement he needed. She didn’t seem overly hurt, which was surprising given the spanking she had already taken only hours before.

  “I’m your husband, Ria.” Each word was punctuated with a hard slap to her rear end. He felt like an imposter as he pounded out his displeasure against her backside, but dammit, he actually was quite annoyed. “It’s my job to provide everything you need, and I can’t do that if you’re not telling me what your needs are.”

  His hand began to ache, but he kept up a steady pace, watching with awe and even a small amount of arousal as she wiggled and moaned at each smack of his hand against her pert backside. When she pushed her bottom up to meet his hand, he stopped, tilting his head as he considered the fact that he might not be the only one enjoying this.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to like it quite this much,” he told her seriously. “I’m pretty sure that quite defeats the purpose.” He continued to spank, even as he questioned the effectiveness. He was on a roll now, and there was nothing that could deflect him from the task at hand.

  “I j-just…” she stuttered out an excuse, and he could hear the embarrassment in her voice. “I don’t know if you’ll ever do this again, and I just want to enjoy it. It’s different when you spank me.”

  His thoughts were all over the place – something his scientific brain wasn’t used to. Spanking his lovely wife had brought a well of untapped emotions bubbling to the surface. Even as his hand ached at each hard swat he laid across her already aching bottom, he was overwhelmed with a fierce need to protect her, and he felt more empowered with his own masculinity than he ever remembered feeling in his marriage.

  Smack! The thump of his hand across the lower part of her bottom startled even him, and she squirmed in his lap, beginning to whimper. “Okay, Troy, you can stop at any time now.”

  Her voiced complaint stopped him, mid-swat, and he immediately began to fuss. “Was it too much, too hard? Did I hurt you?”

  His hands fell to his sides, and when Ria pulled herself into a sitting position in his lap, he didn’t stop her. “I’m sorry. Was that too much? I don’t know what came over me. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be, and you seemed to enjoy it, and I just I guess I went to far. I’m sorry, Ria.”

  Her response, as she threw back her head and dissolved into hearty laughter, was not the one he had been expecting. “I’m fine, babe. A little sore, but that probably has
more to do with the paddling I received earlier than it has to do with anything you did. You just re-ignited a fire that was already burning below the surface.” She half-stood, rubbing her bottom for emphasis.

  He gaped at her. “Paddling?”

  “Yes, Troy. I’ve been on the receiving end of spankings my whole life. I’m quite used to them at this point, so if something is meant to be an effective deterrent to bad behavior, well, a hand spanking just won’t cut it.”

  The thought of his beautiful wife getting her bottom paddled by her father infuriated him. At the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the one wielding the paddle. He couldn’t imagine being the one to cause her real pain.

  “Are you okay, though?” he questioned again.

  “Mmm hmm,” she murmured happily, hiding her face in the soft flannel of his shirt. “I’m more than okay. That was perfect. I know it would be different if I was really in trouble, but I kind of liked the feel of you spanking me. It was…” She paused and he could hear her humming as she struggled for the right words. “It was everything I hoped it would be.”

  The fact that it was something she had hoped for at all was still mind-blowing to him. Everything he thought he knew about the belief system here in Green Valley was apparently wrong. As he looked at his happy wife, with her messy hair, and red tear streaked face, he wondered if it would always be like this, or if she would eventually be like his mothers and he like his father.

  Was there really a way to employ a heavy hand and have a happy wife?

  Chapter 2

  Ria woke up on the day after Christmas, smiling as her still tender bottom made contact with the cool sheets as she rolled over and sat up in bed. Yesterday had been her Christmas wish come to life, and all she wanted today was more of the same.

  Beside her, her husband stirred.

  Troy was a good husband, just stuck in his ideas, and the shortcomings of his own childhood had filled him with a very negative view of domestic discipline. Even as an adult, surrounded by loving examples of the lifestyle in their friends and family, his view hadn’t changed.