woman! You scared me to death! If you can’t have a child, we can adopt. I want you, Ivone. You.” Jamison’s tirade ended in a whisper, and his face was pale, his eyes bloodshot.
Ivone reached out and gently laid her hand on his cheek. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his and then stood. He rose to his feet to tower over her, his face a study in confusion. She pulled her clothes off and knelt before him, lowering her forehead to the floor. Jamison was silent for what felt like an eternity, then bent to pull her up to her feet, enfolding her in his arms. He rested his head on the top of hers.
“We’ll follow up with your doctor’s orders, Ivone. But there will come a time when we’ll have a discussion about withholding. And I might not be inclined to honor your safe word. Are we clear?”
Ivone nodded and finally found her voice. “Very clear, Jamison. And honey, I’m sorry I misjudged you, that I didn’t give you more credit. You don’t need me to protect you, at least not all of the time. I do love you, with all my heart, and you deserved to know.” She tipped her head up to look at him. “I obviously have much more to learn than you do.”
“We’ll keep teaching one another.”
Jamison claimed her lips with his, and any misgivings were swept away before the tide of love and trust between them. This, then, was the right thing and to hell with the voice of reason.
Epilogue
Ivone lay stretched over the spanking bench, her pussy clenching in anticipation. This night had been a long time coming. The laparoscopic surgery had been uncomfortable, and she thought that her insides might have been scraped and drawn like plaster on a wall, but her doctor was satisfied that most of the masses were gone, and the adhesions freed. The surgery took place after the drug therapy. Now that hadn’t been a cakewalk. Ivone had spent several nights sleeping alone in her room, despite Jamison’s entreaties. Such were the mood swings from the male hormone-based drug that she had been afraid that she might strangle him in his sleep on any pretext. She’d gained weight and privately inspected her body for telltale signs of beard growth. On one memorable occasion, she had slammed her water glass down so hard that it shattered, eliciting shocked glances from John and Joyce and an assessing one from Jamison. Ivone had really wanted to throw it squarely at Jamison’s head simply because he had made a comment about her refusing to eat vegetables. It had actually been kind of amusing, in retrospect. Ivone wondered if he had been concerned that she was going to challenge his supremacy in the household. Lord knew she had felt capable of it!
However, the symptoms eased once she’d reached the end of the treatment, and the surgery had been more of an afterthought. There was even a carefully offered medical opinion that the odds of her conceiving had improved. Jamison clearly didn’t care. He had never wavered in his steadfast love and support, overcoming his abhorrence of anything medical. He had even gone to see a doctor for a physical and committed to seeing him on a regular basis. Ivone had held onto that throughout the whole time under the doctor’s care, clutched it like a lifeline. At the back of her mind, she knew that in selling Jamison short, in not sharing her diagnosis with him, she had both hurt him and challenged his authority. Not that he had ever mentioned it again until today, now that she was totally healed. Now it was time to pay the piper, and Ivone welcomed it. Jamison could let go of his hurt, reestablish his dominance, and Ivone would be purged of her guilt.
“Are you ready, sub?” Jamison’s deep voice was full of dark promise.
“I am, Master.”
“You will count the strokes, sub.”
The first blow on her buttocks was an indicator of what was to follow. It had been a long time for Ivone, and the smack stung like fury. She flinched and sucked in air.
“One.”
The next nine came hard
Ivone reached out and gently laid her hand on his cheek. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his and then stood. He rose to his feet to tower over her, his face a study in confusion. She pulled her clothes off and knelt before him, lowering her forehead to the floor. Jamison was silent for what felt like an eternity, then bent to pull her up to her feet, enfolding her in his arms. He rested his head on the top of hers.
“We’ll follow up with your doctor’s orders, Ivone. But there will come a time when we’ll have a discussion about withholding. And I might not be inclined to honor your safe word. Are we clear?”
Ivone nodded and finally found her voice. “Very clear, Jamison. And honey, I’m sorry I misjudged you, that I didn’t give you more credit. You don’t need me to protect you, at least not all of the time. I do love you, with all my heart, and you deserved to know.” She tipped her head up to look at him. “I obviously have much more to learn than you do.”
“We’ll keep teaching one another.”
Jamison claimed her lips with his, and any misgivings were swept away before the tide of love and trust between them. This, then, was the right thing and to hell with the voice of reason.
Epilogue
Ivone lay stretched over the spanking bench, her pussy clenching in anticipation. This night had been a long time coming. The laparoscopic surgery had been uncomfortable, and she thought that her insides might have been scraped and drawn like plaster on a wall, but her doctor was satisfied that most of the masses were gone, and the adhesions freed. The surgery took place after the drug therapy. Now that hadn’t been a cakewalk. Ivone had spent several nights sleeping alone in her room, despite Jamison’s entreaties. Such were the mood swings from the male hormone-based drug that she had been afraid that she might strangle him in his sleep on any pretext. She’d gained weight and privately inspected her body for telltale signs of beard growth. On one memorable occasion, she had slammed her water glass down so hard that it shattered, eliciting shocked glances from John and Joyce and an assessing one from Jamison. Ivone had really wanted to throw it squarely at Jamison’s head simply because he had made a comment about her refusing to eat vegetables. It had actually been kind of amusing, in retrospect. Ivone wondered if he had been concerned that she was going to challenge his supremacy in the household. Lord knew she had felt capable of it!
However, the symptoms eased once she’d reached the end of the treatment, and the surgery had been more of an afterthought. There was even a carefully offered medical opinion that the odds of her conceiving had improved. Jamison clearly didn’t care. He had never wavered in his steadfast love and support, overcoming his abhorrence of anything medical. He had even gone to see a doctor for a physical and committed to seeing him on a regular basis. Ivone had held onto that throughout the whole time under the doctor’s care, clutched it like a lifeline. At the back of her mind, she knew that in selling Jamison short, in not sharing her diagnosis with him, she had both hurt him and challenged his authority. Not that he had ever mentioned it again until today, now that she was totally healed. Now it was time to pay the piper, and Ivone welcomed it. Jamison could let go of his hurt, reestablish his dominance, and Ivone would be purged of her guilt.
“Are you ready, sub?” Jamison’s deep voice was full of dark promise.
“I am, Master.”
“You will count the strokes, sub.”
The first blow on her buttocks was an indicator of what was to follow. It had been a long time for Ivone, and the smack stung like fury. She flinched and sucked in air.
“One.”
The next nine came hard
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