in the corner with her naked bottom on display. Other times it might mean her doing a stint in the Frame, her vulnerable flesh dancing to the tune of the thuddy leather flogger he favored for beating her breasts — though thankfully he saved that particular torment for grievous offenses.
He didn’t say a word as his fingers flipped through the mail, his hip against the bar that separated their kitchen from the living room. She felt small, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood, alone, in the middle of the expansive great room.
“How was work?” She moved to pick up the laptop case he’d set on the bar, but he grabbed her hand.
“Back in position,” he said, giving her fingers a quick squeeze.
“Sorry, I—”
“Just do it, Lacey. You’re already in enough trouble. Don’t make it worse.”
Lacey’s gaze slanted downward, and she retreated back to her spot. She licked her lips, willing herself to manufacture some saliva as her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
They’d agreed to this. They’d talked about it — a lot. At first Troy hadn’t been sure. She’d convinced him just to try it once. See what he thought. His first time spanking her was almost comical; she’d actually giggled at the tickle that she called that “inaugural spanking”.
That seemed like a thousand years ago.
He walked around her. It was the usual inspection: a smoothing of a skirt hem, a tuck of her unruly dark hair behind her ear.
She yelped as his hand swatted her ass. “Stand up straight. You’re slouching.”
Lacey snapped to ramrod attention.
“More, girl,” he said, standing to the side, just beyond her peripheral vision. “Stick those tits out.”
Straining to obey, she blushed at the way the position arched her back, sticking out her ass and essentially presenting her breasts to her husband.
“That’s better.” He returned to stand before her, looking down upon her from his great height.
Lacey knew better than to be fooled by his pleased tone at her obedience. This was just the beginning.
“You know what day this is, don’t you?”
Her eyebrow quirked upward. “Friday?”
“Sir,” he growled, not quite suppressing an amused curve of his lips.
“Friday, Sir.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He moved around her again, and stood close behind her. The movement of his lips brushed the edge of her ear. “And what happens on Fridays?”
The whispered words washed over her, and she shivered as the coiling began deep in her belly. “Spanking.”
“Maintenance, Lacey.” He clasped the nape of her neck in his big hand, his finger gently stroking under her chin. ”You need maintenance.”
When she was struggling, crying, pleading as she lay over the steel hard slabs of his muscular thighs, she wasn’t sure she’d characterize herself as ‘needing’ it. But when a girl’s ass is on fire, the tears streaming down her face, she isn’t exactly thinking straight.
She dreaded this part. It was...participation. Agreement.
“Yes, Sir. I need to be spanked.”
“Go on.” His hand tightened.
“Because — because, I’ve disobeyed you.”
But I haven’t!
It didn’t matter, of course. Maintenance spankings were instituted in their marriage because Troy felt they were useful for correcting his wife for any minor misdeeds she may have committed during the week, and as a way to reinforce the power dynamics of their relationship.
Troy released her nape, his hands moving down and across the upper swells of her breasts. She wished she’d been allowed a bra to make them seem perkier, but he was more interested in easy access to her breasts than he was her vanity.
“Do you have anything to tell me?” His fingers deftly eased over the hard points of her nipples, the tips blatantly displayed under the snug tank top.
“I… I forgot to tell you when my period ended.”
In one of the most shocking orders she’d ever received from her husband, he’d decreed that she was to inform him when she
He didn’t say a word as his fingers flipped through the mail, his hip against the bar that separated their kitchen from the living room. She felt small, her hands clasped behind her back as she stood, alone, in the middle of the expansive great room.
“How was work?” She moved to pick up the laptop case he’d set on the bar, but he grabbed her hand.
“Back in position,” he said, giving her fingers a quick squeeze.
“Sorry, I—”
“Just do it, Lacey. You’re already in enough trouble. Don’t make it worse.”
Lacey’s gaze slanted downward, and she retreated back to her spot. She licked her lips, willing herself to manufacture some saliva as her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
They’d agreed to this. They’d talked about it — a lot. At first Troy hadn’t been sure. She’d convinced him just to try it once. See what he thought. His first time spanking her was almost comical; she’d actually giggled at the tickle that she called that “inaugural spanking”.
That seemed like a thousand years ago.
He walked around her. It was the usual inspection: a smoothing of a skirt hem, a tuck of her unruly dark hair behind her ear.
She yelped as his hand swatted her ass. “Stand up straight. You’re slouching.”
Lacey snapped to ramrod attention.
“More, girl,” he said, standing to the side, just beyond her peripheral vision. “Stick those tits out.”
Straining to obey, she blushed at the way the position arched her back, sticking out her ass and essentially presenting her breasts to her husband.
“That’s better.” He returned to stand before her, looking down upon her from his great height.
Lacey knew better than to be fooled by his pleased tone at her obedience. This was just the beginning.
“You know what day this is, don’t you?”
Her eyebrow quirked upward. “Friday?”
“Sir,” he growled, not quite suppressing an amused curve of his lips.
“Friday, Sir.”
“Yes, that’s right.” He moved around her again, and stood close behind her. The movement of his lips brushed the edge of her ear. “And what happens on Fridays?”
The whispered words washed over her, and she shivered as the coiling began deep in her belly. “Spanking.”
“Maintenance, Lacey.” He clasped the nape of her neck in his big hand, his finger gently stroking under her chin. ”You need maintenance.”
When she was struggling, crying, pleading as she lay over the steel hard slabs of his muscular thighs, she wasn’t sure she’d characterize herself as ‘needing’ it. But when a girl’s ass is on fire, the tears streaming down her face, she isn’t exactly thinking straight.
She dreaded this part. It was...participation. Agreement.
“Yes, Sir. I need to be spanked.”
“Go on.” His hand tightened.
“Because — because, I’ve disobeyed you.”
But I haven’t!
It didn’t matter, of course. Maintenance spankings were instituted in their marriage because Troy felt they were useful for correcting his wife for any minor misdeeds she may have committed during the week, and as a way to reinforce the power dynamics of their relationship.
Troy released her nape, his hands moving down and across the upper swells of her breasts. She wished she’d been allowed a bra to make them seem perkier, but he was more interested in easy access to her breasts than he was her vanity.
“Do you have anything to tell me?” His fingers deftly eased over the hard points of her nipples, the tips blatantly displayed under the snug tank top.
“I… I forgot to tell you when my period ended.”
In one of the most shocking orders she’d ever received from her husband, he’d decreed that she was to inform him when she
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