Two wild (?) women meet

I just love meeting new friends. Sunny is lovely, funny and we hit it right off – except for the serial killer things and all. But I did notice one little thing. I mean, I don’t want to say anything negative, but when you give someone a gift, shouldn't they be gracious?  I brought Sunny a gift, flew three quarters of the way across the country with it, and when I give it to her, her response is, “Oh hell no, I’m not taking that damn thing!”

Geeze, you try to be nice to some people. You see our friend Ronnie (Heart and Soul), was so sweet a few years ago she sent me not one, but two, real genuine English canes. I’ve really felt guilty keeping them both. And with Nick’s permission, and I hope Ronnie’s blessing, I’ve passed one on to Sunny. There are many reasons – I wanted to share the love, I want Ray to beat her ass with it at least once, and now that we only have the one, Nick will have to be gentle with it.

I shared these reasons with Nick; as to the last one he said it wasn’t a problem. He felt sure that if he ask nicely, Ronnie would probably send him another – please Ronnie, say it ain’t so.

We are enjoying ourselves and as we share our adventures soon remember one thing – we are both fiction writers!

Fantasy Friday - The Dream…or is it? II

Happy Fantasy Friday! I'm sure Sunny and I are off doing something wild and crazy at the moment (like eating too much), but I didn't want to forget your Fantasy Friday story.  This story was the first attempt at writing of a dear friend of mine. And now, thankfully, she has a blog of her own and we get to hear from her often.  The writer of this story is our own Faerie, from Faerie learns to fly. The story is great and the blog is wonderful. 

Sit back and enjoy...

THE DREAM… OR IS IT?

She walks into her home, hot, tired, sweaty, but oh so satisfied. The raised gardens are all planted and the pool is swimmable again. Thanks to her talented hubby her favorite swing is fixed. It had been a long winter, but summer was close. Next on the agenda: a nice hot shower, then dinner, a lovely end to a lovely day. Perfect, except for one thing, the thoughts intruding in her head.

Why can’t I find the off button she thought once again? She stripped off her dirty clothes and walked into the bathroom. Lately this life review she has been doing has become almost an obsession for her, keeping her awake at night, occupying her thoughts during the day. Then there’s the dream, coming almost nightly now, disturbing the little sleep she has been getting.

She knew why. It had been happening ever since she stopped the drinking. First she was dealing with the overwhelming emotions. She felt guilt for what she had done, the relationships she had ruined. She felt anger at herself for letting it happen. She hadn’t intended to become a drunk. She knew better, her father was an abusive drunk, she knew the toll it took on families.

She had allowed herself to wallow in those emotions for only a short period of time. Being a person of action, a “fixer” if you will, she set out to answer the question she felt would help her fix things. That question being, why? Why did this happen, why did she allow herself to drown in alcohol? Why wasn’t she happy? Thus, the life review began.

She thought about her growing up years and the abuse she endured. She knew this wasn’t the reason. She had told her husband everything very early on. He is the one who helped her heal, who held her when she had flashbacks, and who assured her no one would ever hurt her again. She believed him, and she healed. True to his word no one ever hurt her like that again.

She thought about the career she had spent thirty years building. Working in healthcare was the only thing she had ever wanted to do. It came as quite a surprise when she realized how badly burned out she was from it. That realization left her lost, she didn’t want to do it anymore. She had nothing left to give. But at 46, what does she want to do? That question remains unanswered. One she returns to time and again.

She thought about her husband of 25 years, and everything life has thrown at them. She thought of the births of their 2 kids and the deaths of many, many family members. Those deaths had left gaping holes in their lives. Thank God they had always had each other to lean on. She thought about the disease that almost took his life, how she dropped everything to be with him at the hospital 100 miles from their home. The surgery had not only saved his life, but gave him his health back. The guilt becomes acute now, he has always been there for her, loving her, supporting her in every way she needed. Could she really ask more of him? Is that fair to him? Is she brave enough to show him that piece of herself that she has uncovered in her search for answers? The one she’d heretofore not known existed?

You see, in her quest to find answers, she turned to the internet, she googled something that had dwelt in her always. She had to reestablish her connection with her husband. That was critical to her, if she couldn’t she doubted that she could go on. She needed him more then she needed the air she breathed, that she knew for sure.

What may you ask did she google? Spanking, yes spanking, it had always been a kink for her. Though the desire had been on a back burner for decades, forgotten, ignored. Sex had always been their way of connecting. Unlike most women she knew, she not only liked sex, she loved it. Sex had always been soul shattering between the two of them. Her drinking stole that. Her confidence was gone. She had to find it. She had to get it back, but how?

What she found on the internet was a community, a safe haven, a home. Here she felt, for the first time in her life, that she fit in. She lurked for months, never commenting as she didn’t feel she had anything to contribute. But, she read, and she learned, and finally she acknowledged that need in herself. That need, not just to be spanked, but the need to be submissive. It was actually easier than she thought to come to that realization.

He was definitely an alpha male, she had always known that. It was apparent from the beginning. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him. She respected him so much, that quiet, inner strength that he possessed. She trusted him with her life. During this time of reading and learning and reflecting, she realized that in many ways she had always submitted to him. Little things really, like cooking the food he liked but she didn’t, always letting him drive, because he liked it that way, and so many more. Little things really, that she did or didn’t do over the years to make him happy, because she loved him. She’s just never had a name for it. Now she did. Could she embrace it? Would this make her happy?

She turned off the water and went into their bedroom, thinking about the e-mail she had sent him. Had he ever thought about a D/s relationship? Would he be willing to think about it? She had explained to him, in a general way, what she wanted to explore this with him. She knows hasn’t checked his e-mail yet, she was anxious every time he went to the computer. He doesn’t check his e-mail often, but it’s been a little over a week since she sent it.

She sat on their bed, drying herself, and working on detangling her long, wild hair. She needs to dress and start dinner. She’s so tired, maybe she will lie down, just for a minute and rest. She fell asleep almost immediately, and the dream began again.

She sits, waiting, on the edge of the bed, thoughts bombarding her fast to process. The thoughts bring the emotions. Loathing, for herself, disappointment in herself, how could she have jeopardized everything the way she did. Fear, but not of her husband or of the spanking she is going to get. She doesn’t know, doesn’t have the answer yet. He’ll help her find it, and then he will help her fix it again. This one thing that she swore she’d never do again. In all their talks, he never wanted this rule, she did. She needed it like an acrobat needs a safety net. Neither one ever thought she would need the net. But she wanted it. He’s her net. He will catch her before she falls. He will help her fix it.

He stands at the door, watching the emotion fly across her face. He knows her so well; she’s balanced right on the very edge. He has to hold on to her, pull her back from the edge before she falls. He will, because he loves her. Though he doesn’t completely understand, he knows she needs this. This thing they do.

He enters the room, sits on the bed next to her. He reaches for her wrist and pulls her gently over his knee. She seems so fragile, can he really do this? Yes, he can, he’ll for her, because she needs this. This thing they do.

“I’m so disappointed.”

That’s all he says, she starts to cry, and he starts to spank. Blow after blow rains down on her butt, warming it fast. She is so ashamed of her own behavior. She is disgusted with herself, she knows she hurt him, hurt them. She feels every swat as it connects with her flesh, no doubt reddening quickly. The cleansing of her soul begins.

She feels him caressing her, all over her body. Ah, she feels his hand between her legs. That feels so good. Wait, this isn’t how the dream usually goes. Suddenly she’s awake. He’s here with her in bed; he’s caressing her and smiling at her.

“I read your e-mail; I can definitely help you with that.” And then he leaned in for the most delicious kiss she can ever remember. They ordered take out several hours later, they ate in bed, talking, about themselves, their relationship, and this thing they were going to do.

Maybe dreams do come true.

~o0o~

This is originally what Faerie shared with us about herself.

I just celebrated my 25th wedding anniversary; we're both in our mid forties and have 2 kids. My interest in spanking, like a lot of the readers has pretty much always existed. I would love to take this opportunity to say Hi and Thanks to all the bloggers. They obviously don't know me, but I feel like they are friends to me, and they have helped me more than I could say.

I'm so glad Faerie was willing this story with us way back in 2011. I haven't gotten a new story is so very long. Give it some thought folks, do we want to keep Fantasy Friday going? I hope we can, but I'll need some stories. If you're willing to help send your story to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Trying to be calm today

* See update at the bottom.

Please send me calm, soothing thoughts today. I was observed Friday – of course we’re observed by our principals and we all know one thing for sure about principals – they do not want to teach school for a living, and quite frankly I don’t think that they could. Yet they come in for twenty minutes at a time and want to tell me I’m doing it wrong.

When the vice principal observed me Friday – the man WROTE in my planning book. No one write in my book but me! So he began by pissing me off. We’ll have our post-conference today (or whenever he gets around to it.) I know exactly what I should do.

1. Keep my mouth shut.

2. Nod at the appropriate time, as if I agree.

3. Keep my mouth shut.

4. When asked specifically, tell him I'll be sure to try all his suggestions.

5. Refrain from going for his throat.

6. Keep my mouth shut.

See, I do know what to do. But I’m not in the mood. I’m in the mood to tell him to kiss my ass and stay the hell out of my room and stay AWAY from my planning book. I want to tell him I know way more about teaching than he does.  I want to tell him a lot of things.

So fingers crossed that I can be a good girl and get through it. If not, maybe I'll have a lot more time to write.

I went by his office when he told me to be there. He was no where around and I never saw him today. This means it will be hanging over my head for who knows how long. Sigh...

Fantasy Friday - I just forgot… II

Happy Friday everyone. Today we have a story from Heather over at Discipline and Dreams, Heather's blog is private now, but this is a wonderful story she shared with us back in 2011 and she is an excellent fiction writer. 

There was one scary thing when I got this story originally.  It went at first into my spam folder. Most of the time I check it but I’m sure that occasionally I just delete what’s in it. Please know if you ever send me a story and you don’t hear from me within 24 hours – I didn’t get it!But thank goodness we got this one. Now everyone enjoy…

I just forgot...

After reading stories to both of her young children, and laying with each of them until they fell asleep, Danielle slipped into her bedroom. Her husband lay waiting in their bed.

“Hi baby,” she whispered, sliding her body close to him and wrapping her arms around him.

He pulled her closer, holding her tight. “Hi to you,” he replied warmly. He was so happy to finally be able to feel her body against his that he almost forgot they had business to attend to. His calloused hands roamed her soft, fleshy curves. He pinched and grabbed, sometimes squeezing hard enough to make it hurt. Then, suddenly, he cleared his throat.

Her heart started beating loud and fast. She blinked, unable to take her eyes off him, adrenaline beginning to pump like crazy. She felt his hand slowly running through her hair, grabbing a fistful.

Pulling enough to make her head tilt back, Jackson addressed his naughty wife. “I want you to stand up, and take your pants and panties down.“ he said firmly.

Blushing furiously, Danielle felt like she’d swallowed a lead ball, and it was now sitting in the very pit of her stomach. She slowly moved off the bed once he released her hair, and slipped her pants and panties down over her waist, letting them puddle at her feet. Now bare and feeling especially exposed, she was too embarrassed to meet his eye, and stared at the carpet beneath her toes.

He stood in front of her, and took her hands in his. “Why are you being punished?” he wanted to know.

Those words made Danielle jump alive. “But Jackson…I just forgot! I‘m sorry…”

He stopped her by putting a finger to her lips. “I don’t want to hear excuses, Dan.” his voice was kind, but it was determined, too. There would be no talking her way out of this.

“But I’m sorry!” she threw her arms around his neck. Her bright blue eyes blinked innocently, pleading with him for leniency.

But this was not the time for a free pass. It was pretty obvious that she had been testing him lately, by pushing against the boundaries he’d established. If she wanted to test him, he was going to respond appropriately. He knew she would secretly be disappointed if he gave in to her pleading, because even though she didn’t want a spanking, she really didn’t want him to back down. He peeled her arms off of him, sighing. He moved them firmly to her side, and lifted her chin so her eyes met his.

“You didn’t do what you were supposed to do today, did you?” Jackson wanted to know.

Her eyes fell ashamedly to the floor. “No,” she replied quietly.

“You know that if something comes up or if you’re having an off day and can’t get your daily assignment done, that you can always text or call and let me know what’s going on. I’d like to think I’m a pretty fair guy, and if it’s unlikely that you can get something done easily, I don’t normally ask you to do it, do I?”

“No sir,” her voice was barely audible now. She knew he was right.

“Huh. Did you know what would happen if you didn’t get it done?”

Unable to reply, she just nodded her head.

“What’s going to happen, Danielle?” Jackson asked sternly.

She tried to answer, but her voice faltered. She hated to say it.

“Look at me,” he reminded her, and when her eyes shyly met his he said, “You‘re only delaying the inevitable. What‘s going to happen because you didn‘t do your assignment?”

She wanted to just drop dead from shame and she could feel herself blushing. “You’re going to spank me.” She felt so little under his stern glare. She tried to look away in embarrassment but he grabbed her chin and made her look at him.

“Look.At.Me. Before we start I want you to go get the hairbrush, the small cane, and the strap.” he watched her bare bottom sway as she walked to the closet where they kept their implements. When he saw the look on her face, he wanted to smile. He didn’t, however. “What’s with the pout, little girl? Are you resisting already?”

She shook her head emphatically. “No! I’m not…” she paused in front of him, meekly holding out the implements she’d fetched for him.

“Put them on the bed, closer to the middle, then bend over. Feet on the floor, tummy on the bed.” he ordered.

Danielle fought the urge to stomp her foot and argue. She was not in the mood for a spanking, couldn’t he see that? She stared at him, trying to decide how to politely tell him this wasn’t going to work for her.

He saw her hesitate, and he jumped into action. He took the implements from her hands, and laid them on the bed. Putting his hand on her waist, he guided her to the bed and quickly bent her over it. He started smacking her bottom all over.

“No, no!“ She tried as hard as she could to stay still but after a few swats it was starting to sting pretty good. “Ouch!” she cried. “Jackson…that’s enough….”

He laughed, spanking her harder. “I know you don’t really think that you get to tell me what’s enough.” His big hand covered almost a whole cheek at a time, and he brought it down over and over again. He could feel her flesh warming up beneath his hand, and he tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer before he picked up the pace. Moving all over her backside, he made sure every inch of it was colored bright pink before stopping for a break. He squeezed her stinging bum as she panted against the mattress. “Hand me the cane.”

She reached forward and picked it up, handing it back to him. Bracing herself, she waited for the sting of the cane.

“All I asked you to do today was to empty the dishwasher and make sure any dirty dishes went straight into the dishwasher instead of the sink. Is that a hard task to complete?” he asked.

Danielle felt a sarcastic remark growing on the edge of her tongue. She wanted to say you try running after a three year old and a sixteen month old and keeping up with something like dishes! But she knew what he would say to that, and he’d be absolutely right. She could hear his deep voice, That’s a lousy excuse and you know it. Are you trying to tell me you didn’t have ten minutes to empty the dishwasher? If you didn’t, why didn’t you text me and let me know you were having trouble? The more she thought about it, the clearer it became that nothing good would come from that line of thinking.

“Is it?”

“No, sir.”

The first stroke of the cane landed exactly on the spot where bottom meets thigh.

She squealed, and kicked her legs. “Oh, ow…I’m sorry, baby…”

Another line of fire. “You’re sorry now, because you’re getting punished. What were you so busy doing that you didn’t have time to empty the dishwasher?” he wanted to know, bringing two more successive strokes down across her red bottom.

She sucked her breath in between her teeth, her foot coming up to block herself. “I was on the computer…” she answered, trying to ignore the burning in her butt.

He picked up the pace, bringing that stingy, fiery cane down again and again until she was wiggling and trying to dance away from the strokes. “On the computer, huh? Well maybe tomorrow you’ll just have to keep the computer off all day so you can focus on getting things done.” he told her decidedly as he continued to punish her. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he put the cane down. He ran his hand over her hot ass, squeezing the swollen mounds of flesh. Next, he reached for the strap and Danielle’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Oh please,” she moaned quietly.

Jackson grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, bringing his mouth right next to her ear. “Please what?” he growled.

“I don’t want the strap…”

He let her go. whap!

“Ouch!” she cried out, stomping her foot.

whap! whap!

“Do I ask a lot of you, Danielle?” he wanted to know.

“No, sir!” she yelped, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“I don’t. So when I do ask you to do something, I expect you to get it done. This isn’t the first time you didn’t get something done this week, is it?” he brought the strap down extra hard this time, right on her sit spot.

“OW, ow ow ow ow ooooohhhhh…no sir,” she whimpered.

He kept a steady pace with the strap and she swayed her hips to try to avoid it. He tightened his grip on her, but she was still managing to move around. When he saw her hand fly back to try to protect herself from the strap, he grabbed her wrist and pinned it to her back. He pushed her down a little roughly, and started smacking the back of her thighs with the strap.

Danielle started wailing, and trying to twist away. “No, no .. nooo please .. Please not on my legs, I wont put my hands back anymore I promise!” she begged.

He gave her two more for good measure, then lay the strap back on the bed.

She had tears streaming down her face now, and her butt was throbbing. “I’m sorry I didn’t do what you asked me to. I had plenty of time to do it, and I kept putting it off until I had no time left. I‘m really sorry.”

“I know you are, but I don’t think we’re done just yet. I don’t think you’ve had enough for this to be memorable.” he said decidedly.

“I have, I have!” she pleaded. “Don’t spank me anymore,”

He sat down on the cedar chest at the end of their bed. “Bring the hairbrush over here, Dan.”

Sniffling, she carried the hairbrush over to him.

Jackson brushed the hair from her face, then took the brush from her hand. “Look at me.“ he demanded, and waited for her to do so. “I am going to make sure that we don’t have to repeat this anytime soon. You will obey me.”

Danielle just cried softly as her husband helped her across his lap. She wrapped her arms around his leg and held on tight.

He finished off her spanking with the brush. He knew she was already very sore, so he didn’t spank her too hard. He didn’t have to. He’d made his point, this was just to drive it home a little. He stopped after twenty or so smacks, and rubbed her back gently, whispering to her until she calmed down. When her breathing had returned to almost normal, he kindly helped her to her feet, and gathered her in his arms. He smoothed her hair back, and wiped the tear streaks from her face. “Are you ready to be my good girl again?” he whispered against her damp cheek.

“Yes sir,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry,”

His mouth covered hers and he swallowed her words. He kissed her tenderly, his hands cupping her burning butt cheeks. Squeezing and kneading the hot globes, he instructed her to bend back over the bed.

Danielle whimpered, but did as she was told. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, her trembling voice betrayed her fears. “Are you going to spank me more?”

“Turn around,” he ordered, and she did. “If I feel like spanking you more, I will.“ He came up behind her and entered her roughly, reaching forward and grabbing her hair with his left hand. In the dark, he could hardly see his wedding ring glinting in his wife’s tangled hair. He used his free hand to smack her cherry-red ass while he fucked her. He was being rougher than usual. Showing her who’s in charge. Who fucks who around here.

She cried out when he landed a particularly hard smack on her left cheek. “Ohh, it hurts so bad when you spank me,” she half-complained between gasps and moans.

“Good.” Jackson replied gruffly. He kept slapping her bottom, fucking her hard. When he finished, he pulled out and gave her another ten hard smacks before letting her up. He loved to watch her squeal and try to dance away.

She was panting and her face was flushed when he did finally let her up. “Baby,” she said as they climbed into bed together.

“Yes my love?” he replied softly, stroking the side of her face gently.

Turning her face up towards his, she grinned mischievously. “I didn’t come,”

He smiled at her. “I know. Did you think that was for your pleasure? You’re being punished tonight, but just because you’re in trouble doesn’t mean I have to go without what I want.”

Wow. This was a first! He’d never used anything sexual in a discipline context. She couldn’t explain why, but that really turned her on! She must have made a weird face, because Jackson raised an eyebrow at her.

“Why are you making that face?” he wanted to know.

“Because I’m really turned on, and I want you to make me come!” she complained. “Come on…I want you!”

“I don’t want to make you come, because you’re a naughty girl and you don’t deserve to come.” he told her sternly. “Now stop whining and go to bed before I spank you again.”

“Can I make myself come?” she whispered.

He smiled, thankful for the darkness so that she couldn’t see. “No, you absolutely may not. Goodnight little girl.”

Danielle decided it probably in her best interest to let it go, so she did. “Goodnight sir.” she murmured into his chest as she snuggled in close. It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, her bottom still hot and sore.

~o0o~

Heather this was great. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. If any of our other blogging friends are willing to write for Fantasy Friday we'd all love it. and you don't have to be a blogger - anyone who is reading this is welcomed to send a story. Send any stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

I got spanked

Yes, believe it or not, I got spanked. For some reason Nick has found a little problem with my attitude lately. Not that there was anything really wrong with it. I’ve just been complaining a little. You see we had a little ice the other morning and school was delayed. But I didn’t get the call until after I’d gotten up and showered. So I couldn’t really go back to bed or anything. I mean, yes it was nice to have delay and all, but couldn’t they have called a half hour earlier. I text Nick to tell him about it, he response was, “Are you bragging or complaining?” I guess it was a little of both.

When I got home, I’d barely sat down before Nick walked into the room with Blondie’s paddle and pulled me across his lap, as I mildly protested. Now that paddle packs a pretty impressive sting. He was going on about my attitude, “You get two hour off, that you’re going to be paid for and you have to whine and complain that they didn’t call you earlier?” I was laughing, but squirming at the same time – there was a pretty good sting going on here.

“And,” he went on, “you said something about joining the gym again, but I’ve not seen any headway being made toward that. So hear this – you will rejoin the gym and you will go, twice a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays will be fine and if something comes up that you can’t make one of those days you’ll have Friday or Saturday to make it up.” This little speech didn’t slow the spanking any. I was agreeing to anything at that point!

My bottom was stinging for sure, but I really appreciated what he was doing. Besides the spanking itself, I was glad he just told me I had to rejoin the gym. I know I need to, but I just haven’t been able to make myself. That’s what I need from him, not a long list of rules that we would both forget. But just a firm, ‘DO IT.’ about something that matters. So I’m off to join the gym this afternoon.

One more thing about Mollie

I know, I know I usually post good things about my children. I’m usually telling you I think they’re intelligent and basically – well, perfect. But want do you do with a grown child who totally goes against your wishes and does something you’ve been begging them NOT to do for more than a decade?  Although I’ve never posted a picture of either of kids before I’m posting the picture Mollie sent me last Friday so you’ll know the child is nuts! Scroll down...

Yep, that my Mollie. The idiot jumped out of a fully fictionally plane. This was while she was on spring break. I blame Nick who did the same crazy thing back when he was in college. She ignored my repeated request that she never do such a thing, but she did go with me on one thing. I asked if she ever did do such a stupid thing, that she not tell me until she was safely back on the ground.

I was at a program about the Wright Brothers with my students. I checked my phone right before it began. Once my heart started beating again (she did send another picture showing her on the ground grinning from ear to ear) I sat for the whole program wishing she was little again and cursing the Wright Brother for inventing the stupid airplane in the first place.

What to wear...

Do you remember when you were a kid and you REALLY wanted to do something, but you were just sure your parents were going to say no? I had a flash of this not long ago when I wanted to do something, I didn’t think Nick would object, and he didn’t – but Mollie, now that was a different story.

You see I’m the lucky blogger thats getting to meet up with Sunny soon. She and I made our plans to meet a while back and recently decided on a location. I’ve been lucky enough to meet with several bloggers over the years. Eve was first and Mollie was not thrilled about that at the time. She was about fourteen and very suspicious of ‘online strangers’, just as I’d taught her to be. During Eve’s first visit Mollie was very possessive, she couldn’t have marked her territory any more clearly if she’d peed on me.  But Eve soon won her over and they’re still friends.

Mollie was not thrilled when Nick and I flew to California to meet Grace, A Day in the Life, and Ceeci, who also had a wonderful blog at the time, Eve was along on that one too. Now when I had the chance to meet Florida Dom when he flew into our fair city one time Mollie was even more disapproving.

“Mom! You’re going to meet a strange man? Are you crazy?”

“He’s a really nice man and your dad’s not worried.” I pointed out.

“Well somebody needs to worry!” She pointed out.

But all my visits have gone well and she’d started to calm down until I mentioned I was flying off to meet Sunny. “You’re flying to meet her – all by yourself?” She knows I’m a little worried about flying, and I’ve never done it alone.

I confirmed that I was and the look I got from her reminded me so much of my mother. “And just what do you know about this woman?” she wanted to know.

I told her Sunny’s real name and her husband’s name and that I’d seem pictures of them both.

“That’s good,” she told me, “we know pictures can’t be faked.”

“I’ve talked to her on the phone – she let me borrow those outfits to wear when we went to LJ’s wedding.”

I continued to get ‘the look’. Finally she said, “You realize she’s probably a serial killer don’t you.” (She told me the same thing about Eva, Grace, Ceeci and Florida Dom).

“She is not!” I told her firmly.

“All right then, but before you go I want her phone number and her husband’s number and their home address.”

“Hmmm… about that home address. They travel around the country in an RV.” I told her.

Stony silence. Then, “Well, I guess that would make it easier to hide the bodies.”

Poor Mollie – but I still feel safe. My worries run to the more mundane. What do you wear when you meet a serial killer for the first time?

Fantasy Friday - The Silver Ring

We have another new story for Fantasy Friday today. And this is from one of our good friends. Today’s story is by Ami who writes Ami’s StarSong. I love Ami’s writing! She only has one major flaw. It seems that Ami can see writing talent in other people, but she doesn’t have the confidence in her own writing that she certain should have. Perhaps a good spanking for undervaluing her talent is in order. But I am grateful that she is willing to share her talent with us.

She has a wonderful story here, I hope you’ll enjoy…

THE SILVER RING

“We’ve been married how long?”  Daniel stands behind me, his voice accusatory and disappointed at best, angry and hurt at worst.

“35 years” I mumble, breath catching in my throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.  Did you mutter something?”  His hand lands sharply, three times in the same spot on the same buttock.

“35 years” I try again, my voice comes out as a squeak, a good octave higher.

“35 years and you still can’t bring yourself to trust me.”  He shakes his head sadly and sighs. 

From my position in the corner of our bedroom, I can’t see his head, but I imagine him shaking it, and I hear him only too well.  I shift uncomfortably.  I’ve been standing in this stupid corner for all of ten minutes, hands clasped behind my head and naked from the waist down.

“You do right to feel guilty.  Your bloody attitude!  How would you like it if I made such disparaging comments about you in front of our friends, before going off and acting like a spoilt five year old having a tantrum?

“To say I’m disappointed in you is probably the understatement of the year!  You can stay there and gaze at the bloody wall!”

“But Daniel I…”

“Shut up!  You’ve said and done enough.

“I’m so angry I need to go and calm down.  I advise you very strongly not to move a muscle while I’m gone.”

Daniel never slams doors.  But he does this time, making me jump.   

***********

We cluster around Janey’s daughter, Sarah, to admire her new engagement ring.  It is gold, a large blue topaz with a diamond mounted on either side.  It sparkles in the light, and it looks so beautiful.

She explains that her boyfriend took her to Paris for the weekend, and proposed to her on the top of the Eiffel Tower.  So romantic.  Even Polly is lost for words, and believe me, that is a once a year occasion.

Sarah says her goodbyes and rushes out to show her ring off to her friends.

There is silence apart from the sound of teaspoons stirring Earl Grey in Royal Doulton teacups.

Polly holds out her left hand and waves her gold ring under our noses.  It is a ruby surrounded by small diamonds.

“Steve took me to a wonderful restaurant and floated my ring at the bottom of a glass of champagne.  I nearly didn’t see it sitting there due to all the bubbles.  He was paralyzed with fear in case I swallowed it.”

As we admire it, Caroline holds out her own hand to show us her ring, which is gold with a dark blue sapphire and diamond cluster.

“Mike proposed whilst walking along a beach.  I can’t even remember which beach it was now, but I do know it was raining and we were wearing wellington boots!

“He suddenly stepped in front of me and went down on one knee in the sand.  I nearly died of embarrassment as there were several people walking near us and they all stopped and watched.

“When I nodded, he grabbed my hand, and the next thing I knew I was wearing this.” 

“Don’t look at me.”  Janey’s gold wedding ring has no glittery accompaniment. 

“I always take my engagement ring off when I’m at home.  I have my hands in water too much and it’s an opal.  I wouldn’t want the stone to come loose.”

They all look at me expectantly.

I have been sitting with my right hand firmly covering my left.  My cheeks flame.

“Oh you don’t want to see my ring.  We didn’t have much money way back when we got engaged.  My ring is only silver.”  Did I imagine a rapid intake of breath? 

“Oh come on, let’s see it” begs Polly.  I am annoyed.  She’s seen my ring maybe a hundred times before.

I hold my hand out, albeit unwillingly.

It was, and is, very pretty.  Three identical half carat stones catch the light.

“But it’s gorgeous.”  Janey and Caroline speak simultaneously.

“I suppose they’re those zirconias.”  Polly gives my ring a perfunctory glance.  “They seem to have lasted quite well considering how long you’ve been married.

“Is your wedding ring silver too?”

Sometimes Polly simply doesn’t think what she is saying or how it comes across.

“I suppose so.  I’ve never really thought too much about it.  Dan produced it in church, put in on my finger, and there it’s been ever since.”

“You’re lucky your rings still fit you” Caroline smiles.  “My fingers have grown so much bigger, I’ve had my rings resized twice.”

“I’ve never needed to.  My fingers have stayed about the same, although the wedding ring is a bit tight now.  I always hoped that perhaps Dan would buy me gold rings one day, but I love these, and actually, I really couldn’t imagine wearing anything else.”

I hold on to my temper, but my face still radiates heat like a second sun.  I risk a quick glance downwards.  Both rings have lost their shine, although the three stones flash with hidden fires.  I smile as I remember how I had to virtually twist Dan’s arm up behind his back to force him to get engaged.

Even so, it was the longest engagement of any of our friends.  However, if long engagements are a recipe for success, the proof is certainly in the pudding.  Several of our friends are on second and even third marriages.  Perhaps Dan’s insistence that we work hard and save up enough for the down payment on a more substantial house was justified. 

***********

I think I have forgotten Polly’s remarks about my rings.  I think I can rise above being jealous and letting the memories of my friends’ beautiful engagement rings have an effect on my attitude.  But the more I think about my little silver rings, the more discontented I become.

It comes to a head one evening.

We are at Caroline and Mike’s house, and having consumed a marvelous meal, are lounging slothfully on their squishy sofas. 

“Oh look,” says Polly smugly, “the colour of the wine matches my ruby.”

She brandishes her hand under my nose.  Why my nose, I really don’t know.

“We were comparing rings the other day.  Isn’t it about time you bought poor Ami something better than silver, you tight old so and so?”

The room suddenly feels overpoweringly warm, and all eyes seek out my left hand.

“I only told them that we didn’t have much money when we got engaged, which was why my rings are silver.  We had such a long engagement, I wondered whether you might buy me a gold wedding ring, but you bought me a silver one because you said you wanted them to match.” 

I notice Dan’s eyes darken with anger.  I should take it as a warning, but the claret has done its damage.

“I like my rings, Dan.  It really doesn’t matter that they’re silver.  I’ve always liked being different.  At least the stones are big and sparkly.”

Suddenly I’m not feeling too good.  Perhaps Dan isn’t either.  Shortly afterwards he makes an excuse and we leave.

The drive home is mostly in silence.  I feel the need to apologize, but Dan never says a word, so I carefully clamp my jaws together.

**********

I have barely removed my coat when Dan spins me around and glares at me.

“How could you embarrass me like that, Ami?  You made me feel such a cheapskate back there.  That bloody Polly.  Where do you find friends like her?”

“I like Polly!  I like Caroline and I like Janey!  I don’t make comments about your friends.”

“No?  Well my friends wouldn’t dream of making me feel small in front of them and their wives.”

I snarl at him and trot upstairs.  I remove my shoes, which are killing me, then my earrings.  I pull out the pin holding my hair up and shake it down around my shoulders.  Dan looms behind me in the mirror.

“By heavens I’m going to tan your arse for you,” he walks purposely into the ensuite and returns with the hairbrush.

“It’s your bloody miserly fault,” I shout at him.  “You bought the rings.  I can’t help it if all my friends have gold ones!”

Get over that bed, or so help me you won’t sit down for the rest of the year!”

“No, I bloody won’t!”  Now I am furious.  I grab at my rings, tugging them off over my finger and fling them at him.

Daniel stops in his tracks, breathing heavily.

“Ami, you are a bitch!” He roars.  He points towards the corner on the other side of the wardrobe.  “One more comment.  Just one, and that’s where you’ll find yourself.  Now get ready and get over the bed!”  He takes himself out of the room.

I reluctantly remove my skirt, my tights and my knickers.  I am still seething.  I tug the quilt over the wooden footboard and lean over.  My back aches within seconds.  I stand upright again.

Unfortunately Dan chooses that moment to return. 

“You can’t do one thing I ask, can you?”  He yells at me again.  “Alright, if that’s the way you want to play it, get in that corner and put your hands behind your head.  We’ll see if a few minutes of this precious corner time they talk about, helps sort you out.”

I frantically scan the bed where I have thrown my rings.  The engagement ring hangs tangled in the tassels of the bedside lamp.  But the wedding ring is nowhere to be found.  I spend precious and terrifying minutes searching for it, but in the end concede defeat.  I’ll have to look for it later and hope Dan doesn’t notice it isn’t back on my finger.  I curl my lip, pout at the corner, and reluctantly place my hands behind my head.  Stupid, bloody corner time!  Must’ve been invented by men!

***********

I hear the bedroom door open and close.  Just when I think I can’t keep my hands on my head one second longer, Daniel asks me to turn around.

He is sitting propped up against the headboard, a pillow over his lap.  I am so relieved.  I hate leaning over the footboard.

I crawl up and get into position, fussing and trying to get comfortable.  Okay, so corner time is what it is cracked up to be.  It focuses the mind.

“I am truly sorry Daniel” I whisper.  “I do love my rings.  I do.  I never meant to cause a situation.”

“Ami, how many times have I told you to think before you let Polly bring you down to her level?

“I’m going to give you fifty.  Maybe that will convince you.   

He hesitates a moment.  “But your rings are not silver, Ami.  They are platinum.  And the diamonds are real ones.  Why the hell do you think our engagement was so long?  A small country could have existed quite happily for the five years it took me to pay for them.”

He swings, and the hairbrush makes its descent.   

"Ow!" It crashes down again.  

I lurch forwards, clutching the bedcovers for all I am worth, gritting my teeth and desperately trying not to reach back with my right hand.  I have counted fifteen stinging, burning spanks and Dan is showing no sign of stopping.  

My eyes wet with unshed tears, I concentrate on staring at the cracks in the floorboards, following them with my eyes as they disappear beneath the bed.  

It's strange, I think, staring at the tracery of whorls and knots, how intricate the patterns in oak flooring can be.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen - I yelp with pain, grasp the edge of the mattress and hook myself forwards, trying to escape.

Something bright and shiny catches my eye.

Sequestered away in the gloom, half hidden amongst the fluff and dust-bunnies under the bed, is my bloody wedding ring! 

~0~

Ami, thank you again. You really do have a talent and I hope you’ll keep writing for us.

If anyone else is willing to share a story please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com  Many have asked as to the best length for a Fantasy Friday story. There are no firm hard rules but I think anywhere between 500 words and 3,000 words works best.