Alex picked up the breakfast
dishes, growing more irritated by the second. "What do you
mean you're working late?" She demanded, the dishes
clattering loudly in the sink. She was dressed in a dark business
suit, her heels clacked harshly on the tiled floor, creating a
staccato rhythm to her angry words. "I told you about this
dinner party over a week ago. I am not going to do all the
preparation myself!"
She snatched his still-full coffee cup off of the table and
slammed it into the sink, causing another racket of silverware.
Barely giving Michael a chance to pull his newspaper out of the
way. He flinched at her wrath, tucking the paper away quickly and
scooting out of his chair.
"I'm sorry, honey, it came up at the last minute. There's
really nothing I can do about it."
Alex glowered at him, she didn't believe for a minute that
something had "come up". She knew he'd forgotten, she
also knew he wasn't about to admit it. She held him in her gaze
for several seconds. He was about 5' 10", light brown hair,
searching blue eyes. Today he was wearing khaki slacks and a blue
silk shirt which made the azure of his eyes even more striking.
But Alex wasn't moved by his puppy-dog look, and pout.
She let him squirm under her penetrating gaze. She knew that he
was intimidated by her dress. Working as the principal of a
junior high school, a 32 year old woman such as Alex used every
weapon she could in the battle of authority over rebellious
teens. Her dark suit fitted her body trimly, the hemline of her
skirt, while respectable, definitely had an effect on the
hormones of teenage boys. And older boys as well. Her dark, brown
hair was drawn up into a bun, giving her a strict, schoolmarm
look. Her eyes were "green as emerald pools" as Michael
was fond of saying. Now though they were harder than glittering
diamonds as Alex skewered her discomfited husband with her
piercing stare.
"Be home by six. Sharp!" She ordered.
"Yes, Alex," Michael replied, quickly escaping through
the front door.
The day was hellish, Fridays were usually the worst day of the
week, but this one must be a full moon Alex decided as the line
of students outside of her office steadily lengthened. The hours
crawled by and Alex was in a foul mood when the bell rang at
2:45. She managed to slip away by three, and was home with
groceries before four o'clock.
She took a few minutes to trade the tight bun for a pony tail,
and change into comfortable jeans and an old T-shirt before she
began getting ready for the dinner. As she deftly chopped carrots
and celery, she muttered to herself, letting her anger over
Michael's inconsiderate behavior flow out into her chopping knife
and dissipate harmlessly amidst the desecrated vegetables. Her
anger toward Michael, her frustration with work, all quickly
evaporated with sweat and toil. At five o'clock, Alex flopped
down on the couch, closing her eyes. Roast was roasting, desert
was chilling, veggies sliced, appetizers appetizing. Alex giggled
to herself, giddy as she thought of what she'd accomplished in
just two hours time.
Then she bolted upright. Wine. Michael could pick that up on his
way home. She dragged herself up from the couch and picked up the
phone. She dialed Michael's office number but got no answer.
Maybe he'd gone out for something, she thought, frowning. She
hung up then dialed the main number.
"Hello?" The voice wasn't Michael's, Alex recognized
her husband's partner, Jack.
"Um, hi Jack, this is Alex," she said somewhat
hesitantly. "I was trying to get Michael but there was no
answer at his extension. He said he was working late tonight on
some big project."
There was a moment's pause on the other end. "Oh... I don't
know... As far as I know he went down to Krueger's to watch the
game... I don't know about any big projects we have coming
up."
A sick feeling settled over Alex, sifting its way into the pit of
her stomach. Her jaw began to ache as she clenched her teeth,
red-hot fury rose from deep within her. "At Krueger's you
said?" Krueger's was a sports bar where Michael and his
buddies hung out often.
"Yeah, they were just going to have a few beers, watch the
game..."
"Thank you, Jack, you've been very helpful, I'll see if I
can find him there." She said curtly, barely keeping her
anger in check. She practically hung up on his goodbye, slammed
the receiver into the cradle, and stormed out of the house.
Alex walked into the building with fire in her eyes, but she took
a minute to look around before barging into the situation
half-cocked. The bar lined the far side of the large room, a
number of small tables were scattered about interspersed with a
few high tables surrounded by stools. There were a good number of
people gathered around several of the tall tables, and seated at
the bar, but Alex spotted her husband immediately. He was leaning
on a table with five other men whom Alex recognized through
various social associations. They were all focussed on a
big-screen TV which was featuring a football game that had
obviously captivated them.
As Alex approached, the game gave way to commercials, and she was
able to overhear snippets of conversation. The snippets became
more coherent as she closed on the table.
"So Mikey, how'd you get the old ball and chain to let you
out this time?"
Michael, took a long draught of his beer, swaggering a bit.
"Oh she's no problem, I do whatever I want."
"Aren't you having company tonight?" another chimed in.
"Yeah, but she does all the cooking and cleaning, that's
women's work, they like that kind of stuff. Besides, I told her I
was working late. She bitches about it but she can't do anything.
I'm the breadwinner in the family, she couldn't survive without
me."
Alex listened in silence, a flurry of confused emotions raging in
her gut. She was furious at his blatant disrespect, his lies, his
typical "macho man" attitude in front of his friends.
But in a deeper part of her a wrenching ache began. A sense of
injustice and betrayal. She never disrespected him. Whether he
could hear her or not. She loved him too much. Now, suddenly, she
wasn't as certain that the strength of her feelings were
reciprocal. None of the men had noticed her yet, so she quietly
stepped forward. Shaking off her disappointment, she sidled up
beside her husband, throwing her arm around his shoulders.
"Fancy finding you here," she drawled with exagerated
friendliness. Michael just stared, slack-jawed. "Howdy,
boys," Alex said, nodding to each of them, laying on the
"good ol' boy" routine with a shovel. "So what's
the score?" The men glanced at each other in obvious
discomfort, but greeted Alex respectfully. She couldn't help but
think of a bunch of little boys who'd been looking at dirty
magazines when the mother of one of them showed up. None of them
knew quite what to say, but they were all looking at Michael with
a hint of sympathy, and at her with no little amount of
apprehension. Alex smiled wickedly at them, enjoying making them
squirm a bit. Then she brought her palm down on the table down on
the table in a grandiose gesture. "Welp, I think its time we
be headin outta here. Isn't it, dear?" By the last few
words, her tone had gotten dangerously low, and she let her hand
slip down from Michael's back to the seat of his slacks. She gave
him a firm pat.
"Yeah..." he muttered, his face flushed.
"Good seeing you boys." Alex smiled sweetly, giving
them a little wave. Then turned and walked back through the bar
and out the door, without a backward glance.
She heard Michael's footsteps behind her as she strode across the
parking lot.
"Alex..." She ignored him, walking to her car.
"Get in," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for
argument. But still he tried.
"But, I ,"
"NOW!" She met his eyes for the first time since they'd
left the building, and she felt a rush of anger flush her face.
He glanced down quickly, and climbed into the passenger side. She
started the car while he struggled with the seat belt.
"Breadwinner..." she muttered, pulling her own seat
belt on, "bitches..." It connected with a click, and
she pushed the car into gear, letting her anger chase away the
dark shadows ofdoubt and hurt in her heart.
"I'm sorry..." he began softly, she raised her open
hand, and brought it down hard on his left thigh. He yelped in
pain and surprise.
"You're sorry you got caught! You'd have come home tonight
at six like nothing happened. You LIED! You DISRESPECTED ME! You
were a JACKASS in front of your FRIENDS! " She was
punctuating each point with a hard slap to his legs, he tried to
block the assault, but she evaded him easily. "I worked ALL
DAY, then I came home and I COOKED, and CLEANED THE HOUSE, you
know...WOMEN'S WORK!" She delivered three fiery swats.
"While you were sitting down here, being the BREADWINNER OF
THE FAMILY!" Five more swats; her hand was stinging, and
Michael was sniffling softly, he always broke down quickly under
her scolding.
She took a deep breath, her anger was retreating and she felt a
tightening in her chest as the sadness rushed in to fill the
vacuum. "I don't want to hear a sound from you until we get
home. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he said quietly, staring at his lap.
Alex stopped at the liquor store to pick up the wine. As she got
out of the car, she turned to Michael. "You stay here, don't
move a muscle until I get back."
He responded with an almost inaudible "yes, Ma'am."
Alex selected the wine quickly. She wasn't in the mood for
company tonight, but it was too late to change things now. She
would punish him before the guests arrived, she decided, it would
at least give some closure to the episode so that they could
carry out some pretense of hospitality.
As she approached the car, she could see Michael, bent forward
slightly, his arms wrapped around his midsection. He didn't see
her coming, his eyes were downcast, and she thought she saw a
glimmer of wetness on his cheek. Her resolve softened, the anger
fading again. She opened the door, and he started, straightening
quickly, and brushing at his face with the back of his hand. She
pretended not to notice as she handed him the paper bag, and
climbed into the car.
"Alex?" He asked tentatively.
"I told you not to speak," she said cooly, pulling into
traffic. .
"Sorry," he murmured, clasping his hands in his lap.
"What is it?"
He glanced over at her. "I really am sorry, Alex."
She was quiet for a moment, wondering about the signifigance of
this conversation. "That doesn't change your punishment,
Michael," she responded finally.
"I know," he said quietly. "I really am
sorry."
Alex nodded slightly, concentrating on the road. They sat in
silence for several minutes. "Thank you," Alex said
gently. Michael looked at her for a long moment, before turning
back to stare out the window.
They pulled up to the house; Michael followed Alex in and put the
wine in the refrigerator. The house was filled with the warm
smells of cooking food, and Alex flicked on a lamp, flooding the
room with soft light. With the comfort of familiar sights and
smells, Alex felt the cold grip of fear beginning to loosen its
hold on her. She looked at her husband for a long moment.
"Michael, I don't know what to say to you." Michael
stood silently, eyes on the floor. Alex shook her head slightly,
trying to make the past hour make sense. Then she sighed heavily,
and began to sort out his punishment. "You lied to me today,
Michael."
"Yes, Ma'am," he said softly, keeping his eyes on the
floor.
"Not only did you lie, you lied in order to get out of work,
leaving twice as much for me to do."
"I'm sorry, Ma'am," he murmured.
"Go get the spoon, Michael." He turned obediently, and
fetched the wooden spoon that they saved especially for
punishment purposes. It didn't look terribly significant, it was
an average size mixing spoon. It was made of olive wood, and
oiled, bringing out the beautiful swirling patterns in the grain
of the wood. The back was flat, creating a spanking surface
approximately four inches long and three inches across. It was a
relatively light implement, but Alex knew that it imparted a
smarting sensation that Michael had described as "a hundred
bees stinging all in one spot". Michael handed the spoon to
Alex, and stood, silently. He knew the routine by heart, but he
always waited for instructions. Maybe he was holding out hope
that she would suddenly change her mind and grant him clemency.
Alex took the spoon. Not this time, she thought grimly.
With one hand, she quickly, unbuttoned his slacks, and pulled
them down. She heard him take a quick
breath, as his pants dropped, and she felt a small surge of
satisfaction at his discomfort, but it was
dampened by her other conflicting emotions. So she concentrated
on the business at hand, taking
Michael by the upper arm and turning him to face the kitchen
table.
"Bend over the table, hands under your tummy." Alex had
found that this position worked well for punishments. It kept her
husband's hands restrained from interfering with the spanking,
the bent position drew his buttocks more taught, giving him less
padding to absorb the blows, and it left Alex with almost total
freedom of movement. She didn't like to use it for very long or
hard spankings, she liked having a more intimate contact with him
during those times, but for what she had in mind right now, this
position suited her needs perfectly.
Michael knew that she wouldn't give him a severe spanking in this
position, but Alex could still hear his breathing becoming uneven
as he lowered himself onto the surface of the table and tucked
his hands under his body. He turned his face to his left, closing
his eyes for a moment and biting his lip nervously.
Alex stood behind him. Gathering her thoughts before beginning
the customary short lecture. She always summarized the reasons
for his punishment and stated them to him before beginning the
spanking. It helped her to focus, and it helped him to get into
the proper mind set to accept the consequences of his behavior.
Alex felt a familiar fluttering in her stomach, a kind of stage
fright as she prepared for her performance. She took a deep
breath, stepped forward, and set the spoon on the table in front
of Michael's face. Then she put her thumbs into the waistband of
his cotton briefs, and slid them down to the middle of his
thighs.
Her heart was beating fast now as she gazed at his bared bottom.
She reached out with her right hand, gently laying her palm on
his light skin. He flinched slightly at her touch, then relaxed,
inhaling deeply. Slowly, Alex slid her hand over Michael's
exposed buttocks, feeling a mixture of power and tenderness. Very
softly, she began to speak.
"Michael, I'm going to give you a spanking now," she
paused, gently rubbing his bottom. "This spanking is for
shirking your responsibilities by leaving me with all the work to
do this afternoon." She paused again, rubbing. "That
was very irresponsible of you Michael, and didn't show alot of
respect or consideration for me either. Did it?"
"No, Ma'am, I'm sorry," he said softly, sounding very
sincere.
Alex nodded slightly, then turned so that she was facing her
husband. She put her left hand down on the small of his back and
pulled her right hand back.
SMACK Her hand connected sharply with his left bottom-cheek.
Michael jumped, but remained silent.
SMACK An identical hand print appeared on his right cheek. He
remained still. Alex, brought her hand back again, she knew his
attempt to remain stoic would soon fail, and she was going to
give it a head start at betraying him. She let loose a volley of
twenty rapid-fire spanks, his bottom quickly went from a mess of
hand prints to a solid pink, and he began to squirm and whimper
softly before the assault ended.
The butterflies were gone from Alex's stomach. The performance
had begun, and she was in her element. She picked up the spoon
from the table, and renewed her stance. Using a quick wrist
motion, she flicked the spoon over Michael's bottom in a loud
staccato rhythm, Michael soon harmonized with his own whimpering
and yelping. He clenched his cheeks, bent his knees and kicked
the floor,but Alex didn't pause. She didn't follow any particular
pattern, just kept the stinging spanks raining down fast and
hard. Far back in her mind she thought about how he'd lied, how
much work she'd been stuck with, but most of her attention was on
the spanking. Making it as clean and effective as possible. The
timbre of Michael's cries changed, and Alex was immediately
attentive to his condition. He was getting close to tears, she
could hear it in his voice, and see it by the desperation in his
movements. She looked into herself, did she feel it was enough?
Did she forgive him? She shifted her grip on the spoon handle
slightly, and drew her arm back. She brought the spoon down hard,
flicking it with her wrist at the last moment. Michael wailed.
Three more hard swats, and she set down the spoon.
Michael lay still, sobbing softly, his arms drawn in as he
huddled into himself. His pants had fallen inside-out over his
feet during his kicking and were now hopelessly tangled. His
briefs had fallen down as well at some point and had joined the
chaotic mess of clothing at his ankles. Alex knelt, and gently
helped him disengage from the binding clothes. She slid his shoes
off, and pulled the whole mess off his feet, leaving him in socks
and shirt. Michael's bottom was bright red to the tops of his
thighs. Alex careful helped him stand, he was somewhat unsteady
on his feet, so Alex kept a hand on his arm as he
gatheredhimself. A few tears had leaked out of his eyes, and he
was wiping at them with his palm.
Alex felt a deep sadness as she looked at him, knowing what lay
ahead. She couldn't do it without giving him some comfort.
"Come here," she murmured, drawing him into her arms.
He fell into the embrace gratefully, holding onto her tightly,
burying his face in her hair.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He whispered, remorsefully.
Alex hugged him, rubbed his back, comforted him. "Its
alright, Michael, I forgive you." She paused. "For
lying," she added. She held him for another minute, before
speaking again. "We need to have a serious talk about what
happened in the bar, however." Michael just held onto her
tighter. Alex felt the confusion rushing in once more and fought
to maintain her equilibrium. They had guests arriving in an hour
and a half. She needed to see this punishment through. Fighting
back the surge of despair, she disengaged from the embrace.
"Come," she said softly, taking him by the arm once
more and leading him down the hall.
She guided him into their bedroom, and flicked on the light. She
took a deep breath, getting her emotions under her control again,
and slowly began to unbutton Michael's shirt, then the cuffs. She
pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall into a rumpled pile
on the floor. Michael's eyes were downcast as she worked, Alex
only made him strip completely for very serious spankings, no
doubt he understood the signifigance of her actions now. Alex
knelt and lifted his foot, pulling off his sock, undressing him
as she would a young child. He cooperated silently, his
expression of resignation did not change.
Alex rose and led Michael into the bathroom. She looked at him in
the mirror for a long moment. He still would not meet her eyes,
staring down at the sink instead. Alex reached under his chin,
raising his face until he looked at her in the mirror. Alex felt
the hurt rising again, and tears began to sting her eyes. She
tried to swallow the tightness in her chest, but her voice still
came out less steady than she would have liked. "Do you know
what is happening now, Michael?"
Michael chewed his lip slightly. Alex knew he had a pretty good
idea, but she asked the question anyway, they were into the
ritual now, and Michael's answer was a given. "No,
Ma'am," he said, dropping his eyes again.
Alex, took a new bar of soap off the shelf and unwrapped it as
she spoke. "You were saying very disrespectful things about
me and about our relationship at Krueger's this afternoon."
She turned on the tap and worked the bar into a good lather.
Tears were beginning to glisten in Michael's eyes as he watched
her. Holding the soap in her left hand, she rinsed her right hand
and turned off the water. "I never, *never*, want to hear
such horrible things coming out of your mouth again." Her
voice was trembling with emotion. "Open your mouth."
Michael looked like a little boy trying very hard not to cry. He
squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then slowly opened his
mouth. Alex quickly shoved the bar into his mouth, holding the
back of his head with her right hand, restraining him as he tried
to pull back. He moaned as Alex ran the soap over his tongue and
teeth. He kept his eyes tightly closed, and his face was twisted
into a mask of misery. Alex kept a firm grip on the nape of his
neck while she thoroughly scrubbed out his mouth. After probably
thirty seconds of soaping, she pulled the bar out of his mouth
and let him bend over the sink, spitting and choking. Alex felt
some of the anger and hurt fading as she watched him suffer for
his misdeeds. She took a glass down from the shelf and set it
beside him. "Rinse your mouth," she said flatly, then
turned and walked back into the bedroom.
Alex took a shuddering breath and sat down heavily on the edge of
the bed. She didn't understand it. The lying was bad, but at
least she understood what he was thinking, however stupid his
logic might have been. But why was he putting her down to his
friends?
She glanced up as he came out of the bathroom. No longer
completely focussed on his mouth, he was now looking embarrassed
at his state of undress. He was trying to casually cover himself
with his hands. The image piteously funny. Alex would have
enjoyed his discomfort if she weren't so focussed on her own
thoughts. "Come here," she said, feeling tired. He
approached slowly, apprehension was plain on his face. He stopped
about a foot in front of her, and Alex raised her face to look
into his eyes. "Why?" She asked, her tone held no
expression, she felt a sad emptiness inside. "I know why you
lied," she went on when he didn't answer. "But I don't
understand why you were talking that way to your friends,
Michael. Is that the way you really feel?"
Michael looked up at her, startled. "No! Of course
not," he said with conviction and surprise.
"Why, Michael?" Alex asked again, looking into his
eyes.
He looked down again, shifting his weight slowly from one foot to
the other. "I don't know," he said softly, clasping his
hands together. "I was just hanging out with the guys, and
they were all talking, and I..." he trailed off and looked
up at Alex for understanding. She knew what he was looking for,
and she didn't give it to him. She met his silent plea with a
stony stare. Michael swallowed and licked his lips nervously.
"I just got caught up in everyone being macho and I didn't
think about what I was saying." He took a deep breath, then
sighed. "Alex... I am so sorry, I never meant to hurt you,
I love you..." He ran out of words again and fell silent,
looking anxious as he looked earnestly into Alex's face.
Alex took a deep breath, she stared through her husband lost in
her own thoughts. Several long moments passed in silence. Finally
she shook her head slowly. I believe you Michael. I believe that
you are sorry that you got caught." He started to object,
but she cut him off. "I believe," she said, silencing
him with a look, "that you are sorry I was hurt by means of
overhearing you. I am not convinced, Michael, that you would feel
any remorse if I'd never heard it." She looked directly into
his eyes at that moment.
Michael's jaw dropped and the color drained from his face.
"I..." he stammered, looking ill. "It was
just..." His mouth kept working, but no sounds came forth.
He stared at the floor. Alex felt her throat tightening again and
she clenched her teeth against the rising tears.
"Alex," Michael said looking up at her once more,
"please don't do this."
Alex felt her eyes filling with tears. "What am I supposed
to think, Michael? Never have I seen you act that way, yet when
you don't think I'm around, that is what I find. Maybe you fear
me, maybe you need me, I don't know why you act one way around me
and another in front of your friends. Which one is real? When I
married you I said "to honor" that means when you are
in the room and when you are not. I love you, Michael. I tell my
friends I love you. I tell my friends all the wonderful things
about you. I want them to be jealous of me having such a
wonderful partner. I want them to be awed. That is what I meant
when I said "honor", Michael. Love, honor, and
respect." The tears were flowing down her face now. "If
you don't respect me always then you don't respect me ever."
She reached over and picked up a large wooden hairbrush from the
bedstand. "We are having company tonight, Michael. I am
going to punish you for your lack of respect, then we are going
to have a dinner party. After that, you can tell me how it is we
can be partners when you hold me in such low regard. Get over my
lap, now." For a moment, Alex thought he was going to argue
with her, then he sighed and lowered himself over her lap. Alex
raised the brush without preamble and began to spank briskly. She
wrapped her left arm around his waist to keep him in place, but
he didn't struggle. As the brush cracked down again and again,
Michael was quickly reduced to tears. Alex kept going, spanking
his bottom thoroughly, and paying a good deal of attention to his
thighs as well. Every so often she would concentrate a flurry of
spanks in one spot which would invariably get him kicking and
crying loudly. Alex stopped when his kicking and writhing began
to makeit difficult to keep him on her lap. His bottom and
thighswere a dark dull red spotted with faint purplish bruises.He
was sobbing and crying like a little boy, still squirminga bit
over her lap. Alex's heart softened, and she set the brush aside.
She gently ran her hand over his bottom,the heat was like a
stove. Originally, she'd planned to paddle him as well, but as
she tenderly stroked his burning skin, she decided that he was
punished enough.
"Ok, Michael, its over," she said gently, "you can
get upnow." Michael, half lifted himself from her lap, and
slid to the floor. Kneeling, he put both hands behind him, and
rocked, crying softly, and holding his bottom. Alex leaned
forward and kissed him lightly on the top of his head,then
started to rise, but Michael, reached out and grabbed her wrist,
and tugged at her. Alex looked at him, somewhatsurprised, but
turned to look at him. He took her hand withboth of his, and
looked into her face. His eyes and face werered from crying, Alex
smiled slightly, and knelt down to face him. She cupped the side
of his face with her hand, looking at him with a sad smile. He
just stared into her eyes, stillrocking slightly, still grasping
her hand.
"Alex," his voice was still ragged from crying, but the
sincerity was clear. "I love you, Alex." He was still
breathingheavily, and paused to take some deep breaths. He calmed
himself, then started again. "Alex," he looked down for
amoment then back into her eyes. Speaking slowly and distinctly
emphasizing each word, he said, "I am sorry. Iam sorry that
I *said* it." Alex looked into his eyes,searching them, and
herself. "I love you, Alex. Please.I am sorry." Tears
were filling his eyes again, but hedidn't brush them away. He
kept looking into her eyes.
Alex nodded absently, and looked down. She put herother hand over
his, and looked up into his eyes."I believe you."
Neither moved for a second, as if suspended in time.Then, slowly,
Alex leaned forward, and put her armsaround her husband. Michael,
returned the embrace,and they remained that way for another long
moment.Finally, they broke the embrace, and rose to their feet.
Michael, looked at Alex earnestly. "So... Are we ok?"
Alex smiled softly. "We're ok." Then she glanced at the
clock on the bedstand. "Except for the fact thatwe have
people arriving in thirty minutes." She saidcalmly. They
glanced at each other.
"First in the shower," Michael quipped scampering
towards the bathroom.
"Hey! " Alex shouted, running after him, unable to
suppress the smile that rose to her face. They were ok.
--
Julnick
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