I'm so happy to tell you we have a brand new Fantasy Friday today! I guess after listening to my begging and badgering a friend took pity on me and tried her hand at a little fiction writing.
Baker, from Our Sweeter Approach to Life, sent me her first story and I think she did a great job! I ask her for a brief bio for those of you not familiar with her blog.
I am in my early 40s and have been married to my sweet man for over 15 years, but we've only been in a dd relationship for about 14 months. We have several children that we love dearly, but drive us a little crazy and keep us on the go. I've been blogging for about eight months. Blogging challenges me in many ways. I've learned to speak my heart, accept criticism and learn from others.
Thank you Baker! Now everyone enjoy...
Why am I here? Better question. Why am I here again? The paint is still that lovely periwinkle color. The floor that same freezing cold oak floor that I normally admire. I am so tired of seeing this paint so close up even if it is such a rich shade of blue. My feet tired of being icy cold begging me for cozy, fluffy slippers. I shiver as I feel his eyes watching me from the comfort of our bed.
Why did I say that to him? Why did I have to use that dreadful voice? Why cannot I find that submissive girl he loves so much. Nope, I had to open my mouth again and say that one word that just put him over the edge. Use that tone that just evokes so much disrespect that I even cringe remembering it.
No. I could not just be good and listen to his side. I wanted to argue the point to the death. My death. Well, not really my death, but the death of my bottom side that was now not so proudly on display for my husband to see. I could feel his eyes on my backside, just watching me. Daring me to move from position. My skin prickling at the thought of his intense glare.
My hands. Oh, how I wish I could wring them in front of me. Standing still is so hard. Holding that wicked brush behind me, harder still. I close my eyes so I can think. Think about what I had said. What had lead me to this place where the wall felt too close for comfort and my body shivered in not only the chill of the room, but also in anticipation of what was to come.
Thump, thump, thump...my heart pounding in my ears. I thought this was to calm me, center me. No, my anxiety began to rise as the waiting continued. I just ached for it all to be over. To be in his arms. Forgiven. Why was he making me wait here so long? Time hung in the air as I stood. That brush touching my skin, knowing even now it felt hard and callous against my smooth bottom.
I opened my eyes, feeling the need to not think too much as the anticipation grew inside. My toes. A lovely shade of rose blossom pink stared up at me from the floor. Maybe, next time I’d have them in a matching shade of blue as the wall. Then, then they will match the wall that they stood so close to.
“Eyes on the wall,” came a gruff voice from behind me. My breath hitched as my eyes sprung up. My eyes may have met the wall, but it was my stomach flipping and my bottom clenching with growing concern that made me shutter. How had he known my eyes were no longer there, did I really drop my chin that far to gaze at my toes?
“Focus on what you said and how you said it,” came the command. My mind wondered, should I answer, “Yes, Sir?” No, I’m certain he said not to say a word. Even those two respectful words “Yes, Sir” would not be appreciated now. I was not to speak, just think. Reevaluate my heart, my words. I knew one thing. If that word ever came out in conversation with him again, I had better be halfway across the world and the brush had better have been mailed to the moon. Silence. It descended upon me then. I had been foolish to utter such a careless word. I had hurt him and soon, too soon….
“Come here!” I almost dropped the brush when he spoke. I did not. I cinched it tightly in my hand even as I wished to fling it across the room and run. I turned to him full well knowing of what was to come.
Once again, thank Baker for participating in Fantasy Friday. Don't forget to let Baker know what you think of her story and go by and check our her blog.
Next week I'm planning to put up the final story Cathy had sent me and then it will be up to all of you to see if there are any more. If you're willing to try your hand at a story, send it to email@example.com