She studied him briefly. Hair tousled. Jaw set. An impudent grin playing at his eyes but not set free. It was the almost-grin of a fisherman as he laced a worm upon the hookŠ.imagining the water dance it would do until some poor fish finally fell victim to it. He kept the grin at bay. He wouldn't want her to think he was baiting her.
"One does have to be careful". He was startled for a moment because he knew that he hadn't spoken out loud. And it wasn't like he had a neon sign that blipped out his brainwaves to the world. Thank god for that. She'd be more than irritated at him sometimes, if she could tell that he meant no innocence, even when he feigned it. If she could tell that his words were the joystick that led the train around its track. He liked the feeling. Using only what was real and what was legal to take the corners at a burn or ease the diesel up a hill. Eight miles a minute for months at a time. He could respect that. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of asking "Careful of what?" Let her talk gibberish. If he asked a question, he was sure that she'd only yell at him. Or launch into one of those long and boring speeches where she tried to make him think and be responsible. Responsibility sucked. He did it all week. Boorish or brilliant, he gave the myriad of people that clawed at him his best. He wore himself out to do the job and do it well. And still, she somehow always implied that it wasn't good enough for her. It got under his skin. Like this last time. He'd had to be away. Sometimes life is like that. And she made out like he was a criminal. Jumped right off the deep end and started yammering on about how unfair it was. Poor her. But he'd smoothed her. Made those puppy dog eyes and told her how he couldn't help it. He let the words "unfair" slide off his tongue with such grace that she thought they were her own idea. He loved when that happened. It wasn't like he set out to do that. He was simply being honest. Just a simple fisherman. He smiled slightly to himself.
She pounced upon his smile. "I see nothing funny in you being rude, young man!" Young man. He would have rolled his eyes if she hadn't already been on a tirade. She treated him like a kid sometimes. He shook his head. He'd have to wait til she calmed down to explain to her that she was once again being unfair.
He gave her a look and drawled his words. "So now you're telling me what I can and can not find amusing?"
Her eyes flashed. They actually flashed. He'd read the term a hundred times, but he didn't think they actually did that. He might have pondered that for longer if her flashing eyes had not been attached to her body. The body that held the feet that were rapidly advancing upon him. He held up his hands in a protest. "HeyŠI was just kidding. Geez". Touchy. Touchy. He'd have to tread more carefully. He sorted through his mental file quickly. "I didn't mean anything anyhow."
"Uh huh". OK. So her response was brief. At least she'd stopped coming at him at top speed.
He switched gears. "How was your day?" She was startled. First stopped in her tracks by his attitude and then by his maturity. She stood there torn between taking him in hand and letting the rudeness slide. She didn't know how he did that. She'd never been one to come to a decision easily, but he skyrocketed her indecisiveness to epic proportions. She wanted what was best for him and she wanted what was best for her. A moment ago, she had known that dealing with the rudeness was best for them bothŠbut his simple question derailed her and made her wonder. She wondered if he needed the time and patience that he always seemed to give her. She marveled at how he always just seemed to know things, instead of coming to them slowly like she did. And she wondered how her best skillsŠintuition, nurturance and the ability to analyze could also be her weakest ones.
He relaxed a little. She was definitely thinking now. A tiny furrow of discontent lining her forehead as her brows knit gently together. She'd answer him about the day, though, he was confident of that. She was nothing if not nurturing, and it wasn't fair to come after a man asking an innocent question.
She shook her head and began to walk toward him again, a bit more slowly, with her eyes focused on his. "We weren't talking about my day. We were talking about your behavior".
He made his face into a frown and shrugged. "Nothin to talk about".
"You were rude".
He shrugged again. "So you say".
She sighed. "I do say". She turned abruptly and left the room. He looked around. The fading light of day bathed the room in an almost unnatural stillness. It was almost too quiet.
At least it was until she came back in the room dragging a heavy kitchen chair. She plunked in down in the middle of the carpet, looked at him reproachfully for a moment, and went out of the room again. He heard her pattering about upstairs. He shook his head again. This wasn't like her. Acting weird and not saying anything to him. He frowned. If she wasn't careful, she was going to end up in trouble. He glanced at the kitchen chair and thought that if she did, at least it was handy.
Too handy. He started to get a little nervous. She'd gotten upset with him a few times in the past and had spanked him. Hard. And now the chair. He was puzzled. He hadn't really done anything except push a few buttons. It wasn't fair. She'd never spank him just for that.
He thought that maybe he was wrong when she entered the room again, carrying the wicked square-backed hairbrush that made his bottom twinge in recognition. She sat down on the chair and gave him that look again. The one that seemed as if she was trying to peer into his very soul. He rolled his eyes and gave her a serious lookŠ.like he was agitated with her for even chancing a glimpse into his headspace. She spoke to him. "Come here".
"I can hear you from where I am".
"But I can't spank you from thereŠand that's what I intend to do".
He rolled his eyes again and gave her a look of disgust. "You can't be serious".
"Oh, but I am. Come here".
He shook his head and turned away, intending to sit in the easy chair in the corner until she came to her senses.
She was at his side in a flash. In fact, until then, he know that she could move that fast or look that determined. He began to think that maybe he'd misjudged her just a little. When she took him by the hand, he decided that playing along might be best. He let her lead him to the chair. He decided, too, that looking penitent might bode well right nowŠand he really was sorry that she was obviously upset, so he made his face reflect a little boy's introspection just before the moment of judgement. He knew that she would always be soft for her little boy.
He couldn't help but back away a step and protest as she began to unfasten his jeans. He pushed her hands out of the way, but she only increased the intensity of her grip upon his waistband as she silently finished her mission. He stepped back resolutely and hung on to them as she reached to yank them down. "This is STUPID".
She stood up and took a strong hold on his wrist, speaking determinedly as she led him back to the chair and the hairbrush. "No, this is a SPANKING. A long overdue one, might I add".
"So you say". He mumbled the words, but she heard them.
She gave a healthy tug to his jeans and watched as they fell past his knees before sending his briefs to join them. He frowned at her, trying to both step away from her and protect his privacy at the same time. Her voice was liquid steel. "Damn right, I say". She pulled him swiftly over her lap, ending any doubt that he was soon to be well spanked. "I also say that if you'd listen a little more and spend less time looking for buttons to push, you'd be able to sleep on your back instead of your tummy tonight. But such is not the case".
She picked up the hairbrush and began to spank him hard right away. He hated that. No warm up. No gradual build up. No stopping to let the sting fade just a little. Just a steady torrent of brush upon flesh. He clenched his teeth and stared at the floor. He hated everything about this. The position. The hairbrush. The helpless feeling. The fact that she was mad.
Well, he wasn't so sure about the latter. Hell, let her be mad. He hadn't really done anything. He winced as a series of spanks landed on his sit spot. If he could just remember to breathe, she'd have this out of her system soon. Another flurry of spanks and she stopped. He slowly exhaled and reached back to gently rub at his well heated bottom before righting himself.
"Move your hand, please and stay where you are".
He sighed. "Can't I please get up?"
He felt her shaking her head. She rested the hairbrush on the small of his back. When she spoke to him, her voice was soft. Not the sort of sad-soft that it usually was. Not disappointed in him. Not telling that she was sad about his behavior or about having to spank him. None of that usual stuff. Just soft and resolute. As if she were reporting her plans for the day to him. Matter-of-fact. He felt her trace the edges of an outline of the hairbrush on his bottom. "I'm done. I'm done with words and I'm done with explanations. I'm done with listening and with trying to be heard. I'm done with having my buttons pushed, for whatever reason you are doing soŠand I am done listening to you tell me that I yell at you all the time. In short, I am done with all of the bullshit surrounding the issues that have happened during the last few weeks."
She didn't ask him if he understood. She usually did that, gently checking to make sure that he was with her, that he wasn't being punished unfairly. This time, she just picked up brush again from where it had been resting. She began to spank again, in earnest, causing audible gasps of discomfort to escape from his clenched lips. He reached back to protect his burning posterior but she caught his hand. She used the moment to readjust, to take his hand and hold it steadily at his side while her short legs wrapped over his long ones and pinned him neatly in place. He wiggled in protest, but he was held tight in his prone position until she decided that it was over. She said only the words, "I intend to make this a message that is remembered for a long time" before she resumed spanking him.
Over and over and over that miserable hairbrush greeted his upturned red cheeks and the tops of his thighs. He was protesting now, in the forms of soft whimpers, letting her know that he'd had enough. When he did that, she always stopped. And he was always glad. In those moments, he wanted nothing more than the spanking to be over and she always seemed to take his distress signals seriously.
The spanking continued like she hadn't heard him. He struggled to control his breathing and he made his distress more obvious. He wanted her to stop. He needed her to stop. He couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't fair.
She didn't stop. He felt like his backside was on fire. Tears came involuntarily to his eyes. He wasn't going to cry. He didn't want to and she couldn't make him. But she was proving that she could light a fire in his bottom that would certainly make him remember her displeasure.
He was transported to a world where there was only the hairbrush and its song. The same chorus over and over again. He wanted it to stop. He felt it might go on forever. And then suddenly, he heard her words of comfort and realized that it had she'd stopped spanking. His eyes were wet and he slowly inhaled and exhaled. She rubbed his back for a moment and then reached to her right, removing completely his pants and his briefs. She helped him stand up and she hugged him. Putting as much intensity into holding him as she had into spanking him. She led him to the couch and sat down, drawing him to her in a snuggle, taking care to keep his bottom free from even the gentlest of touches. She simply held him, without words, letting her love show through in the tenderness of her embrace.
There would come the time when the embrace would be broken. When he'd want to right his attire and resume his role. But for the moment, she would hold him, and scatter little kisses on his forehead and his cheeks. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off. Even simple fisherman need to rest sometimes.
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BeKind2Day