Fantasy Friday - The Long Day

I was so happy to get a new Fantasy Friday from Samantha. She has written for us before, but not for a while. Everyone is invited to write a story for us any time you like. You can sent these stories to elisspeaks@yahoo.com. But for now, a big thank you to Samantha!

The Long Day

She shifted on the bed, not quite ready to change her mindset. It had been a long day, full of minor annoyances that had all added up. She forgot to put the laundry in the washer despite the many promises to do so before work. A customer called and asked stupid questions that she didn’t want to deal with. She forgot to wear her work pants as a result of not doing laundry. And to top it off, she forgot her hair tie, and her hair had begun to tangle itself on virtually everythingshe came into contact with.

She tried to convey this to him, but it didn’t feel like he was even listening or caring that she was tired and stressed and just wanted him to hold her and tell her she was okay. So she huffed and stomped her way upstairs, tossing her purse to the floor. E must have heard the stomping and huffing and he appeared in the doorway. He didn’t yell or raise his voice. He pointed to the bed. “Sit,” he ordered, and then left, not waiting to see if she listened or not. “Maybe I don’t wanna,” she said quietly, not wanting him to hear her. He spun around on the top step, no doubt hearing her mutter something. “If you’re not sitting on that bed by the time I’ve come back, you’re gonna be one sorry girl," he warned, a warning he would only give once.

So here she was, sitting and fidgeting and plotting her escape. She flopped backwards on the bed, sighing dramatically. Footsteps sounded on the carpet and she sat up. Maybe he didn’t hear her move out of position. “Stand up.” He didn’t waste any time, shrugging his hoodie off, and watching her to see if she would listen or not. She stood, hesitant and waiting for him to do something. “Pants down, and come here,” he pointed at the floor in front of him. She moaned, and her hands went to the front of her jeans, but made no move to slip them off. He raised an eyebrow. She huffed at him, her lips forming a pout. “Little girl, I won’t say it again,” he warned, eyes narrowing. She reluctantly and slowly slipped out of them, eyes threatening to spill tearsthat were forming.

She stood in front of him, refusing to make eye contact with him. He tipped her chin up, watching her eyes flicker with annoyance and trepidation. He sighed. “Today was hard wasn’t it little girl,” he said, watching her face shutter with exhaustion. She nodded, hoping that he would just hold her. “I hate it there, and I don’t want to go in tomorrow,” she sighed. He brushed his fingers down her arms, noticing her melt into his touch. “It’s hard but you and I know tomorrow will be different. New day, new slate,” he offered, smiling slightly at her. She huffed, and reached for him, but he held her at arm’s length. “Today was hard but that doesn’t excuse the way you acted when you got home,” he said quietly but sternly. She sighed, and made to turn away, but his grip on her arm prevented her from moving too far. She grumbled, trying to remove his hand from her. His grip tightened and he tugged her till she was now facing the wall adjacent to him.

He tucked her arms out of reach, and bent her slightly forward. She whimpered. This wasn’t what she wanted at all. “You might not want this, but you cannot disagree that you haven’t earned it," he pointed out, knowing she was now glaring at the wall wishing it was him. He rubbed her back, and slid his hand down and tugged her panties down. ``Wait not yet!” she yelped, struggling to move away from what was about to happen. His hand landed on her backside, and he quickly went back and forth, watching her skin turn pink and then red. She yelped and twisted every which way, trying and failing to avoid his hand. He landed a particularly hard smack on her upper thigh. “Quit moving,"  he ordered, hearing her yelp. She quit struggling, choosing instead to stomp her feet a tiny bit.

He paused the assault on her ass, and stood her up. Her eyes were red and puffy from tears, and her hands fluttered around her sore backside, but made no move to rub quite yet. “Bend over the bed,” he said. She moaned, but did as he asked, the fight no longer worth it to her. He sat by her side, flattening one hand on her back, the other reaching for a spoon she could not see. He rubbed her sore backside, and then began again. The spoon was effective, each smack drawing out a yelp from her. Any promises she made to stay still went out the window as soon as it landed. She twisted, throwing a hand back to block the volley. He grabbed the stray hand, and landed a hard volley of smacks to her thighs, turning them crimson within a matter of minutes. She shrieked, and buried her head into the blanket. “Please no more,” she begged, broken sobs and hitched breathing following the plea.

“I will not tolerate this behavior. It does not look good on you. It does no good for either of us. The next time you need something, you come to me and ask directly for it. No more stomping. No more huffing and throwing things just because I can’t read your mind.” And with that statement, he redirected the spoon and landed 20 smacks to her sore and swollen ass.

Her body went limp and she sobbed into the bed, deep shuddering breaths in between sobs. He set the spoon down, and rubbed her back till her breathing began to calm down. He scooped her up, and set her on his lap , shifting her weight off her backside. She curled into him, breaths turning lighter, till he suspected she’d fallen asleep. He tucked her into bed, planting soft kisses on her head. She sighed, and her hand moved to grasp his. “I love you,” she breathed, and thenshe was asleep again.