Fantasy Friday - Another Chance, part seven

It's been quite a week and I think it's a good time to leave reality and go for a Fantasy Friday.

Sadly, this is the end of Annie's story, at least until we can beg, bully, cajole, or twist her arm to continue. I wouldn't want Bill as my husband any more than I'd want Tom - but there is still something that draws me to him and the story. You can you can find parts one, two , three,  four, five and six here.

Please enjoy...

Another Chance

Chapter 7

“Do you have an answer for me or do I need to start over?” Bill barked.

Sylvia jumped, startled out of her misery by the harsh tone of his voice.

“I am so sorry, honey.  I don’t have an answer.  I don’t know why I try to hide things from you, I really don’t.”

“Then you are stuck with my answer.  You do it because you want me to punish you.”

He pulled her from the corner and turned her to the light so he could inspect her bottom. It was a hot, red mess.  Welts from the strap crisscrossed to her knees.  Sitting through a three hour family dinner must have been difficult, but the kids fussing over how her “sciatica” was acting up surely helped. 

“On the bed, on your back, pull your legs up so I can see if we’re done for the night.”

Whimpering, she hurried to comply, spreading herself open and praying he was satisfied.  There was more coming, once he promised it there was no getting out of it, but not tonight.  Tonight she was exhausted, physically and emotionally.  Bill poked and pinched, making her hiss, before landing a sharp swat to one cheek and ordering her to get ready for bed.  Grateful for the reprieve, Sylvia ran to the bathroom as fast as her scalded rear allowed.

Bill sat in the darkened room watching his wife sleep.  She was a smart, beautiful woman, far too smart to keep making the same mistakes.  Whether she admitted it, or he wanted to believe it, he had hit the nail on the head earlier.  She did it because she wanted, no, needed to be punished.  For the first time it began to come together.  Sylvia had always had a reckless streak, and had always fought against any attempts to settle her down.  Maybe she needed to be safe enough to fight against her own needs.  Bill felt like an idiot, late to the party again.  She might not have words for this, but she had been behaving loud and clear their whole marriage.  He just wasn’t listening.  He had been so busy telling her what to feel he had failed them both.  Bill sighed and pulled himself out of the chair, wincing at the ache in his back and shoulder.  She would never believe it, but a punishment like this was as hard on him as it was on her, both physically and emotionally.  Sighing again he climbed into bed with his wife and tried to forget about the unsolved issues lingering between them.

The next day was a reprieve for both of them physically, as they battled their emotions and memories through the biopsy.  Careful of the small bandage on her breast, and certain to end each evening holding her tightly, Bill kept their fears at bay by fulfilling his promise of six days of punishment.  No matter how his resolve wavered at the sight of her welted bottom, or how frightened he was of losing her, he strapped her to exhaustion.  Ending each session with the rubber spatula she hated, her gulping sobs nearly breaking his heart.  Yet each day she was calmer, steadier, leaning in to him as if to comfort them both.  By the end of the week she was glowing.  At peace in a way he had never dreamed possible.  Bill spent hours holding her, watching her sleep, and wrestling with demons of his own.  It was clear to him that the failures in their marriage lay at his feet.

Growing up in the 1940’s and 50’s there was a clear set of rules for men regarding how to treat a woman.  Men spanked their children and their wives, to make a point, to enforce rules, to maintain order.  It was a brief, somewhat painful, flurry with hand or belt that was clearly demonstrated in yards, parks, and even on TV.  It was nothing like the brutal punishments Sylvia endured at his hands.  Certainly it was never portrayed as the intense pain/sex connection she seemed to feel, or the desperate need she had to reconnect with him afterward.  Looking back on their marriage Bill was shocked at the progression her punishments had taken.  He would never dream of inflicting that level of pain on her for his own needs, but it was clear he was shortchanging her needs with his idea of what was acceptable.  It was also clear that ship had sailed, he was far into uncomfortable territory long before this.

In the wee hours of the final morning Bill devised a plan; a starting point for the next chapter of their life together.  He had spent years failing to meet her needs, leaving her to fight for his attention.  Now, he intended to make up for that by giving her maybe a little more than she bargained for.  Keep her off balance, keep her backside tender, and keep her attention on him instead of mischief.  All they needed was another chance, a clean bill of health to start their cross-country sightseeing and spanking tour.

The call came while Sylvia was in the shower, giving Bill a chance to process his emotions and pour champagne.  He met his wife coming out of the shower with a soft robe, a glass of bubbly, and the good news.  Just a cyst.  After the crying, laughing and toasting he led her to bed to celebrate.

Sylvia was busy packing and sorting, trying to figure out what would be needed as well as what else could be crammed into the woefully small closets in the new RV.  A slight, lingering soreness as she stretched and bent kept a smile on her face.  The week of punishment was awful, he pushed her past her limits every single day of it, but, she had to admit she also loved knowing he loved her enough to keep his word.  Now she just needed to get him to the middle ground; some punishment, sure, and more often, but that strap and that spatula needed to go.  In fact, there clearly was a space issue on that RV, no way would those two make the cut.  Satisfied with herself, Sylvia hummed along with the radio, wondering what else needed to be forgotten while packing.

Bill let things ride, caught up in the flurry of details involved in his retirement and getting ready to head out on their inaugural voyage.  There was plenty of time.  He wanted to be certain her biopsy site and her bottom were completely healed before he started the new plan.  Finding the strap and spatula hidden in the bottom of the toy box after she “packed” them made him laugh out loud.  Staying one step ahead of Sylvia was going to keep him too busy to miss work.

On a bright fall day they waved goodbye to the family and drove off on their grand adventure.  First stop was the cabin for a final stay before winterizing it and locking up.  It was perfect for Bill’s plan, bringing them full circle to the place where it all started so many years before.

After unpacking, making the bed, and a simple dinner together they snuggled on the porch and watched to sunset over the lake.  Once twilight settled Bill started his story.

“Do you remember that old Triumph I had in high school?”

“The one that was always breaking down?  Sure I do.” Laughed Sylvia.

“That car was like a woman.” Bill said, smiling at the indignant snort from his wife.  “She was never willing to do her job unless I coaxed and pleaded, she made sure I put my hands on her, fiddled with her, kept her ahead of everything else.”

“I thought when I got such a deal on that convertible that it would be a babe magnet when I got her running.  I had no idea she was the babe and I would never have time for other girls if I wanted her to run.”

“I used to have a picture of Kay and me sitting up on the back of that red devil, we looked hot, but I was too smart to ride in that thing.  Kay was always getting stranded with no ride because you never made it to get her.”  Sylvia snuggled a little tighter and giggled, “I wouldn’t have put up with that for a minute.  That car would have been long gone.”

“And that brings me to what I want to discuss.”

“You’re getting a TR3 for your midlife crisis?”

“I already have one, you.  You are just like that car.  If I let you get to thinking, or don’t have my hands on you long enough, or hard enough, you run off the rails and leave me stranded not knowing what went wrong.”

“Well, I am not flattered to be compared to an old rusted out bucket of bolts that rarely started, sucked all of your time and money and ended up not worth the effort.” Sylvia huffed, ready to work up to a full on temper at the notion she was anything like that damn old car.

Bill pulled her tight against his side until she stopped pulling away and kissed her, long and deep, like he meant it to lead somewhere.  As soon as she softened against him, confirming he was on the right path, he went on with his story.

“I learned quite a bit from that car.  Looks aren’t everything, for starters.  And it is past time I used what I learned.  You, my love, are just like a shinier, brighter and smarter TR3.  You need my hands on you, you want me to set the boundaries, and you need me to be strong enough to hold them no matter how hard you test them.”  Bill waited to see if there would be another outburst but he had her attention now.

“I will be the first to admit that the shortcomings in our marriage are mine.  I am an idiot who refused to consider you might need things that I didn’t feel comfortable with.  You have done an excellent job helping me, showing me that whatever we want to do together is okay.  It has been hard for me, going through the biopsy scare, and especially the punishments at the same time.  But, it was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

Pausing to drink a little wine and order his thoughts, Bill plowed on.

“I was so worried about some of the things we do together being too much, that they crossed the line into abuse that I let you wander off too far, too often.  You do need my limits, my attention and my punishments.  And I need you to be happy and feel safe.  Thinking that I might lose you scared me out of the safe zone and made me see how we need to change things so we can both have what we need.”

“Oh, darling, I am so happy you can see how much I need you, how I need your time and attention.  This early retirement is the very best present ever.”

“You left out needing to be punished.”

“What? Oh, sweetie, I certainly love when you spank me, nothing gets my motor running faster than feeling your hand warming my bottom.”

“I’m not talking about the slap and tickle when we are making love.  I mean the butt busting, sobbing, no doubt who is in charge punishments that you so clearly need to function as the sweet wife you are after said punishments.”  Bill growled.

“Wait just a minute now, I hate those punishments, they are awful, and…and brutal, and I never want to have another one, do you hear me, William?”  Sylvia bristled like a cat caught in the rain, indignant at his acting like she wanted that.

“My point exactly.  Those punishments are terrible for both of us.  I don’t want to ever go through what we did last week again.  In fact, I intend to make sure we don’t.”   Bill settled in for the hard part, and steeled himself for the outrage that was coming.

“I also have no doubt that you truly do need much more discipline that I have been giving you.  Therefore I have devised a plan.  This is non-negotiable; we will follow my plan for the next month, after 30 days we can talk about how it is working and whether we need to add to it.”

“You can’t just decide something like this all by yourself!” Sylvia sputtered.

“In fact, I can.  You are happiest when I take charge, not just in bed, but everywhere else, too.  That is a fact.  What is also a fact is that you are happier after a punishment than any other time.  You may not enjoy the strapping, and I know you don’t enjoy that little spatula, but for weeks after a punishment you walk around sweet and glowing like a new bride.”

“Now, I am not saying you need what you got last week every time, but I know you need much more than you have been getting from me, and I intend to correct that.  For the next month I am going to spank you every day.  This is non-negotiable so don’t start whining or you will end up with a punishment added.”  He gave her a minute to settle and continued.

“Most days it will be a hand spanking, nothing serious but enough to make you feel it.  Some days I might split it into two smaller sessions.  But, at least once a week we will have a reminder session with the strap and spatula, not a full punishment but a shorter version to help you remember to be honest.”

 “You bastard, you just want to beat me for no reason.”

Bill cut the expected shriek off by jerking his furious wife across his lap and spanking her hard enough to get her attention even through her pants.  Setting her on her feet he pushed her toward the door.

“Go inside, take off your clothes, put the strap and the spatula on the bed, and wait for me in the corner.  DO NOT make me repeat myself or you will get double what I have already decided on.”

Bill struggled not to laugh out loud at the way she stomped off to carry out his directions, and wondered what the story would be for the missing items.  He gave her ten minutes to think about it and wandered into the cabin.

Standing in the corner, shivering in dread of what was coming, she looked like a little girl.  There was barely a blush of pink on her backside; he would send her back to the corner with a red hot bottom several times before they were done.  He loved the stages she went through.  Lost little girl, trying to make him feel sorry for her, red hot mama ready to fuck him anyway he could imagine and a few he couldn’t, rebel who couldn’t be broken by something as silly as a spanking, and finally, repentant wife resigned to her fate. He intended to see them all.

“Where is the strap and spatula?”

“Oh, sweetie, I am so sorry, but there, well you know I am used to a full house and then, of course, the biopsy, and”

“ENOUGH! I told you to put them on the bed.  We’ll start with the paddle and see if you want to be obedient after I am finished with it.”

“No wait, sweetheart, I will explain, honest, just give me a minute.”

Bill jerked her out of the corner, deaf to her pleas, sat on the bed, pulled her across his lap and started off with a very hard volley with a little maple paddle he had placed in his back pocket.  It was the perfect size to get her started, it stung like a swarm of bees but was fairly light and thin, safe to use down the backs of her thighs while she screeched.  Once she was bright red and reduced to crying, he sent her back to the corner to think about her answers.  This time he enjoyed the view and her wiggling along with a glass of wine.  Calling her to him, he positioned her between his legs and laughed out loud when she sank to her knees and grabbed his belt, desperate to divert his attention.

“You can do that if you really want to, but it isn’t what I asked for so there will be consequences added to what you have already earned.”

He laughed again when she dropped her hands like a shot, and put his hand on her shoulder.

“Just stay there, on your knees, I like that, makes it seem like you are really listening to me.  Last chance, so be smart.  Where are the strap and spatula?”

“At home.”

“Did I ask you to pack them?”

“Yeah.” Mumbled softly.

“So how did they get left at home?  And tread very carefully here.”

“I don’t know.”

“Ah, baby, why do you lie to me?  You know what is coming, you know exactly how this ends, and you prove my point.  You may not want this, but you do need it.  I thought you might have difficulty packing those so I bought some backups.  They won’t be as soft and broken in, but you deserve what you get for thinking you could slide this by me.  Go get the new ones out of my dresser and put them on the bed.”

The debate raged across her face, to fight or surrender, finally she slowly stood and made her way to his dresser.  The new strap was shorter, with a handle, making it possible to use OTK, but the leather was stiff.  The spatula was identical to the old one, but bright red in color.  She tossed them on the bed and looked to him.

“Get back in the corner and think about the apology you owe me while I drink my wine.”

She stormed to the corner, stomping her bare feet, the naked rebel in full swing.  He gave her a full thirty minutes this time to cool her temper.  He knew it must have felt like hours to her, and her attitude clearly was shifting when he call her to him for the last time.  Without a word he guided her across his lap and paddled her hard and fast, making certain there was no chance for her to acclimate to the blows.  With no warning he switched to the new strap, easily raising welted lines across her already crimson skin and reducing her begging to incoherent howls. 

“We would be finished with this now, just a sample so you would know what it felt like and how hard you might want to work to avoid a full punishment.  I gave you several chances and yet here we are, again.  I think we’ll spend a few minutes exploring this before we move on to the spatula.”

Without further comment Bill laid into her with a steady pace.  He liked the new style with a handle; it was much easier on his shoulder and seemed to be making a deep impression on his wife.

“Let’s move on, scoot over to the edge of the bed, on your back, and get those legs up nice and high.”

The spatula was pure torment, striking such tender skin over and over until she was limp and exhausted.  Tossing it aside he finished with his hand, to drive the point home.  Pulling her onto his lap he held her as she sobbed her apologies, rubbing her back and marveling at how needy she was for his touch.

“That was much more than I intended, and it was your decision to turn it into a punishment.  This proves that my plan is sound.  You need to spend more time over my lap.  You need to do a lot more crying.  You need to know I will give you what you need, not just what you want.  And I need to know you are getting all of those things.”

Helping her into her nightgown Bill settled her on her stomach and got out the lotion.

“You better let me rub this in.  Tomorrow is a spanking day.”

The teary smile she gave him, and the way she moaned and pushed against his hand settled any lingering doubt he might have had.  

It was going to be a very interesting 30 days.

~o0o~

Awwww... somehow that is so satisfying to me.  Annie we can't thank you enough for this story.  I will think of Bill and Sylvia out there touring the country, loving and spanking.  They have become pretty real for me. Oh, and by the way - Annie sent the picture of the car for me to use... Makes me wonder just how much of this IS fiction.

Next week we have a brand new story from a friend of mine. She sent it not long after I began posting this multi-part story from Annie so she's had to wait a while for it to be up. I hope you'll be back.

Fall's here and that's a good time to fantasize.  Let your mind roam over the fantasies in your head and write one up.  Send those stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com