The Inexpensive Wife

Do you have a guilty pleasure? Is there something that your loving partner complains about you overspending on? Mine came up the other day and I had to laugh. We’ve had our first really cool crisp mornings, I love them. I love the bedroom being cold and the bed with lots of blankets and quilts and a nice warm husband in it.

 

But when I get to my writing room I love my gas logs on to warm my feet. This year, before I even asked, Nick turn on the gas and lit the pilot for me. Heaven… but he added as he left the room, “Don’t run it all the time!”

I had to laugh. I remember well when things were pretty tight money-wise. House payments, car payments, college tuition for LJ all when Nick was out of work for nearly two years. But Nick and I were raised by parents who had lived through the great depression and we knew how to both cut back and save.

 

It was just instinct for him to remind me to watch the gas bill. But I didn’t let him get away with it. I told him I’d rather save money by him not sending me expensive flowers every 

week, to stop buying me jewelry, we wouldn’t buy a new car every few years or taking exotic vacations. Maybe I’d cut down on the designer clothes and forget about the Louboutin shoes. Except, he doesn’t sent me flowers. I don’t wear any jewelry except my wedding ring. I get a car every ten years or so and the last one I got was my first new car ever. As for vacations, if we go anywhere it will be his choice. I’m a home body. I haven’t bought new clothes in a year and I’ve never had designer anything. As for Louboutin shoes… forget it! I’m more of a Skechers girl.

So since I’m not demanding any of those things, I asked him, “Just where should we put the money we'll save if I cut down on the gas bill? The golf course perhaps?”

This was not a fight in anyway, just friendly teasing. I have no doubt that through the cold weather months, each time the gas bill comes, Nick will come to the writing room telling me the exactly how much the bill is, and I’ll answer, “And worth every penny!” 

 

 

Where did the dark go?

Not long ago I was having trouble sleeping. This is very unusual for me. I tossed and turned for a while before getting up to get something to drink. I didn’t bother to turn on any lights as I made my way to the kitchen and I saw something that I’d never realized before. I couldn’t believe the number of lights that were on in our house.

Little lights everywhere!

I started counting. We had on twenty-seven lights on in the house. Twenty-seven! We still have a landline – don’t ask me why. So that accounted for four of the tiny lights, one on the base and one on each of the three phones. The kitchen was bright with lights on the refrigerator giving me the internal temperature of both the fridge and the freezer. Then there was a clock on the microwave, and on the over as well as the small screen Alexa Mollie gave us. 

 

I continued my tour. In my writing room there was one of the phones, but also the clock on the coffee maker, the electric fence base for the grand dogs and the sweep up vacuum.  One spare bedroom had a cordless vacuum who’s charging light shone brightly. And the other bedroom had a digital clock.

 

The living room had a clock, the TV box, the Apple TV, a charger I have for the phone and a Kindle as well as an internet booster box with three little lights. Both bathrooms have a small night light and then in our bedroom were the lights on the TV and box again and two red lights that shine out from the back of the TB. Nick has his clock and the phone and base on his side and on my side of the bed I have a power strip for my phone charger and my… my… well a few toys. 

I miss dark.

I couldn’t believe how many of these insidious little specks of light were in my house. All using vampire energy I suppose. I’m just wondering if I’m the only one. When you turn out all the lights tonight, take another swing through the house and see how many lights you have.

My connection to the Met Gala

Okay, you have to dig for the connection, but it’s more than I’ve ever had before. On the afternoon of the Gala, LJ text me and asked, ‘Are you familiar with the Met Gala?’

 

I told him that I was, but not to invite me because I didn’t have a thing to wear. He answered, ‘Watch the red carpet and you might see my work.’ I know LJ’s work and this made no sense so I waited for the next text.

 

LJ works at Little Island in NYC, a new beautiful park financed solely by Barry Dillard. Barry Dillard is married to Diane von Furstenberg. She owns a lovely building near Little Island and gave one floor of this building to house the offices of Little Island. Actually it’s a big open space where they all work.

 

On the afternoon of the Gala, the elevator opened and a somewhat frazzled woman rushed out asking loudly, “Does anyone here know how to tie a bow tie?”

 

Everyone stared in silence until LJ spoke up, “Yes, I can tie a bow tie.” This was a skill he picked up as a theater major in college.

 

“Come with me!” the woman called and they headed to the penthouse, Diane Von Furstenberg’s apartment. It seemed that neither this lovely designer nor any of her assistance could tie a bow tie! It was actually Diane’s granddaughter's boyfriend in need, and after having him sit – as LJ said, ‘This guy had to be nine feet tall!’ LJ tied him a lovely bow tie was profusely thanked by the family and went back to work.

Living in New York City is something I’d never want to do, but LJ loves it. And I have to admit he does have some interesting moments.

It began as such a nice day...

I woke slowly and peacefully. I love the days when I don’t have to go anywhere. Nick had taken the day off and was going golfing with his brother and others up in the mountains that afternoon. I ate breakfast, watched a little news and some Kelly and Ryan then heading to my writing room to get my day started. I had just settled in with my coffee when Mollie called. She never calls during a school day so I worried immediately.

It seems she had gotten a call from her neighbor saying that Maggie, her older golden was outside the fence and running around near the road. Mollie couldn’t leave and asked if I could drive over and put Maggie in the house for the day. Well, of course I could. Since Nick wasn’t leaving for a few more hours he came too and we got the dogs in fine and headed home. Mollie’s house is about thirty-five minutes away so driving and visiting with the dogs a little took over an hour. But we’re good parents and we didn’t really mind. I thought I was back to my peaceful day once we got home – but no.

 

I was getting on the computer when Nick called on the phone, from the bedroom. He just said, “Could you come back here?” I found him pale, sweaty and in pain. He wanted his shirt off and then he was on the floor. He asked for a cold cloth and I’m trying to figure out what the hell is going on when he mumbles out, “Kidney stone.” He had never had one before but he was pretty sure.

 

I called his brother to tell him Nick would not be golfing and then we were off to the hospital. Not where I wanted to be exactly, but it’s not like we had a choice. Got him checked in and we saw that they had the large waiting room – all openings sealed well, with a door and a sign saying it was to be kept closed at all times. That was for the covid symptom patients. There were two smaller waiting room set up for others – kidney stones, broken bones, suspected heart attacks and those needing stitches. That and the hallway, which soon became full. We probably waited only twenty minutes before a nurse took his vitals, heard his symptoms and asked for a urine sample. This nurse said that of the ten bays they had in the ER, eight of them had covid patients on ventilators waiting for ICU beds.

We were sent back to our little waiting room to wait and wait and wait. Soon we’d been there for two hours, then four hours, then six hours, then eight, then ten… It wasn’t until around the ninth hour that anything was done. They took blood and took him for a CT scan. As we were nearing hour eleven the doctor spoke with us – with truly excellent news. There was blood in the urine, that combined with the symptoms caused them to believe that he had passed a kidney stone but the CT scan showed that there were no more to come! All lab results were spot on where they should be and there was no infection at all.

 

We stopped to pay the co-pay and walked out the door almost exactly eleven hours after we’d walked in. It was not the best of days – simply sitting for eleven hours was hell, being exposed to heaven only knows was very scary (I was double masked), and worrying about it all made for one of the longest days I can remember.

 

So how’s Nick feeling? I couldn’t ask him the next morning, despite sleeping about an hour late he was at work by 4 AM. As he told me the night before when I urged him to stay home and rest the next day, “I’d hate to stay home and break my forty-four record.” 

 

It was forty-four years ago that Nick took his last sick day. He wouldn’t have then but his boss insisted. Nick had dislocated his shoulder while skiing the night before and his arm was not in use, it was snowing and sleeting that morning and Nick had a straight drive car. But if someone had offered to come get him, he would certainly have gone in.

 

I’m married to a tough old bird and in the ER or not, I’m glad we were there together.

 

*A huge shout out to the doctors and nurses at our hospital yesterday. Yes, our wait was long, but those doctors nurses were working their butts off. Not only the crowd waiting to be seen, but some were down right abusive. Some were shouting because they'd been waiting nearly an hour and they wanted attention NOW! One was even calling one of the nurses a bitch and coughing on others then claiming to have covid. How the nurses kept from putting a fist through her face I'll never know. I sure wanted to.

Well, Duh...

** Warning, this post could be thought by some to be slightly political although I don't mean it that way. However you see it, please know this is not a political blog and will NOT become one.

I’ve had my vaccine of course.

 

There was no measles or chicken pox vaccine when I was little. I had both and the measles nearly did me in. I was sick as a dog. Four years old and to weak and sick to get out of bed on my own for nearly two weeks. Scared my mother badly!

 

I got a small pox vaccine and have the scar to prove it. If you’re under about forty-five you don’t have a scar. That’s because it worked.

 

I had my vaccine for polio when I was about six. That disease terrified everyone, especially those with children. Picture of kids in iron lungs still scare me.

 

We went overseas when I was twelve and I got tons of vaccines, I’m not sure what all. But shortly before we left there was a cholera outbreak in the country we were to visit, so I got a cholera vaccine too. 

 

Growing up as a proud, tree-climbing, bike-riding, tree-house building tomboy I’ve had my share of tetanus shots over the years. 

 

I’ve had a flu vaccine each year for at least the past twenty at least.

 

I’ve had my pneumonia vaccine.

 

I’ve had both my Covid vaccines. 

 

And most recently I had a shingles vaccine. 

 

With both of my last two vaccines my arm was pretty sore and I’ve had a little swelling in my lymph glands under that arm. It’s a little uncomfortable but nothing compared to having shingles or having a tube down my throat and possibly dying alone in a hospital.

My parents told me that they had prayed for a polio vaccine. I know I prayed for a Covid vaccine. We got one. It’s nearly ninety percent effective. But there are still so many dying. According to Google, 656,318 people in this country have died since Covid first got here. That’s equivalent to a little more tha two hundred eighteen 9-11 attacks.

 

I’ll stop now. Although if someone could tell me how getting a vaccine that could save your life and possible prevent you from passing the virus on to your grandparents, parents and children became political I’d like to know. Both the past and current president pushed and pushed for a vaccine. Both have taken it. Where’s the conflict?

Twenty years, but it's still a little raw

I’m not a big fan of ‘recent’ history. I like reading and watching show telling all about WWII. I do not read or watch anything about the Vietnam War. I honor the men and women who served in that war, but I don’t want to talk about it.

I feel that way about 9-11. It may have been twenty years ago but I just realized how raw the wound still is. Mollie came over last we and we were watching something about the remembrance. I was doing fine until I tried to speak, then I just sobbed and the tears flowed. It’s happened a couple more times. Evidently I still can’t talk about it. Not out loud.

 

Although the whole country was affected, I only had few personal ties with NYC at the time. LJ was only in the eighth grade. I was teaching in the same school building and I came by his classroom. I felt I just had to see him. But I wasn’t going to go in, I didn’t want to embarrass him. However, his teacher saw me in the hall and motioned  for me to come in. LJ wasn’t embarrassed, he reached out and took my hand. I think he realized how much I needed to touch him. I remember his hand being ice cold. I left quickly knowing I’d never stop crying if I started.

 

During my planning time I remember standing in the office with the principal and several other teachers staring at the TV when the first tower fell. Nothing in this lifetime has shocked me more. No one said a word, we were like statues.

 

I think about my cousin who lived in NYC at the time. His son was ten and attended the school where his mom taught. His daughter was beginning high school. My cousin had gone with his daughter for the first three days, letting her take the lead on which subway and which bus to take. He wanted to make sure she knew how to get there by herself. But on the fourth day they let her go alone. That was the morning of 9-11.

 

Her school was closer to the towers than his office. He walked the four miles to her school and got her. Then they walked the seven miles home. I think of this family when I think of 9-11. I think about the mother and son waiting at home and how she had no idea where her daughter and husband were. Then I imagine how she felt when they came in the door.

 

Give me another twenty years and maybe I can talk about it with out crying. I know that right now I can't write about it without crying.

 

Health news

I’ve had a few people asking about my great niece. The news isn’t great. She did have her surgery – and was very sad that they had to shave off her beautiful long hair.  I think I posted about them putting seventeen leads into her brain looking for the source of the seizures. 

They never found it. It sees that they come from many places in the brain. They finally removed the leads and she was allowed to come home. That was back in July. But another surgery was scheduled for her in late August. I don’t know exactly what that was for, as I’ve said the parents don’t share many details.

 

But they went for the second surgery – the hospital is about four hours away. When they got there they were told that there were so many Covid patents in the hospital that the hospital had just shut down all none emergency surgeries. So they had to turn around and come home. They are still waiting.

 

Covid has reared its ugly head here again. Mollie has eighteen kids in her room. So far she hasn’t had more than fourteen there at any one time between kids with active Covid and those who are quarantined. We were feeling comfortable going out to eat and doing a little shopping during June and July but now I’m crawling back into my shell. I feel more confident that Nick and Mollie and I could survive the virus since we’ve all been vaccinated – but I don’t want to test my theory.

Stay safe out there.

Fantasy Friday - California

It's Friday again and a new Fantasy Friday came in just the other day. This one is written by S, who sent another story a few years ago. At that time she said:

"Hey, I'm S, a longtime fan of the blogs. I've been wanting to write a story for the blog for a while now. I got the inspiration for it the other day. All feedback is welcomed. I hope you enjoy." 

I hope you enjoy...

California- 

Lacey grabbed her overnight bag and keys in a hurry to get her friend Hannah's house. Once she was in the car she made the quick thirty drive to her friend's house. It was Friday which meant her husband Jake would be home by 3 pm. Lacey and Hannah were going on a last minute sorta planned girls trip. Hannah and Lacey had planned this trip months in advance, they had paid for the hotel and plane tickets before asking their husbands if they could make the trip out to California. And they were both told that they couldn't go. The hotel room and plane tickets were non-refundable. They original decided they wouldn't go but Hannah had called Lacey at lunchtime yesterday to tell her that she was going and she wasn't going to let her go alone.

They needed a girls trip anyways. Hannah quickly tossed her bag in the backseat of Lacey's car. They quickly took off for the airport. Meanwhile Jake arrived at the house at noon already done with his office work for the day. He wanted a shower and a change of clothes before heading to the airport. He had in emergency meeting with a big client for the advertising firm he worked for in the morning. Jake arrived at airport around 3pm. 

Lacey and Hannah were already on their first flight to California. Four hours in, they landed at the next airport and quickly made it to their connecting flight. Around 9 pm they boarded their connecting flight not knowing Jake was on the same flight. Jake had caught Lacey on her girls’ trip. He took a seat at the back of the plane and sighed. He had a few hours until the plane would land in California. He would have to think about to what to do when they landed. Either tell her by phone that she had been caught or wait until Monday when she would be back home. He would be home by Saturday evening. As the flight went on Jake went and back forth on what to do. 

It wasn't long before the pilot accounted the descent to the airport. A few minutes later Hannah and Lacey stood at baggage claim awaiting the arrival of their. Jake walked up behind them both girls blissfully unaware and in mid-conversation. Lacey heard a familiar voice asking them what brought them to California. Lacey turned around not wanting to be it to be Jake but sure enough there he was. And they were caught. No one said anything for a moment as Hannah grabbed the girls’ luggage and Jake grabbed his luggage. He was mad but if they were staying at a hotel he wanted them to get there safely. A few minutes later they were in a rental car making their to the girls’ hotel. An hour later Jake had the girls settled in their hotel room and left them alone with their thoughts. Jake and lacey had discussed the situation on the way to the hotel. 

Lacey knew that they were both in trouble the second that she heard Jake's voice. Jake left his hotel and headed to the apartment where he was staying for the night, on the way there he got a call from his brother Matthew telling him that he couldn't find Hannah but her car was at the house and that he had just made it home a little ago. Jake explained the situation. They talked in length about to what do. By the time the next morning rolled around they had a plan in place. Jake sent a quick text to Lacey asking them to meet him for lunch at a nearby restaurant at 2pm. The girls were already seated and drinking wine when he arrived. Jake joined quickly ordering a steak mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. The girls ordered salads nervous about what was going to happen. Jake told them they would be flying back to California tonight and they wouldn't be going to the concert tonight and they would give their tickets away. Lacey started to protest but Jake gave her a look and told her if she continued to argue with him he would spank her on the sight. He couldn't do anything about Hannah's behavior other make her get on the plane and give her ticket to tonight's concert.

Later that evening after dropping Hannah at her house and having a conversation with Matt, Jake and Lacey arrived home around 11pm. Jake was tired and wanted to go bed  but he was also at the end of his rope with Lacey. He had told her multiple times to quit whining on the way home and yet she was still whining. Lacey quickly retreated to their room and began getting ready for bed. Jake entered the room just as Lacey started to out her pajamas on. 

"Put your tank top on and get over here," Jake told her as she began putting them on. Lacey made quick work of putting her top on and follow his instructions, leaving her bottoms off. Before she knew it Jake pulled her over his lap. Smack! The first spank landed and Lacey yelled ,"fuck!” in response. Jake sighed he barked out a warning about her language as followed with giving her another spank. The first two spanks really hurt and Lacey couldn't imagine  making it all through with counting in her head. Jake rarely asked her to count out loud and she was glad about that. However he usually asked her how many swats he gave her at the end and expected her to have the right answer. 

Smack! Smack! Smack! The next three came rapidly and Lacey began trying to wiggle away from Jake. Jake readjusted her position on his lap and proceeded to give her six more spanks. Ow! Ow! Ow! Was Lacey response. Other than her own cries and his hand hitting her bare ass the room was quite.  By the time they got to eighteen the tears started to flow. By the time they hit thirty five Lacey was in full blown sobs and laying limp over Jake's lap. Thirty five and she was done but it took  a minute for her to register that she was no longer being spanked. Jake pulled her up and they cuddle for a while. Then they talked about happened and why the girls choose to go on that trip anyway. Jake laid Lacey down and rubbed lotion on her butt as she laid on her stomach with her ass on fire. There was more punishment to come but it could wait.

~~

Thanks for the story S. We're always looking for new stories. If you'd like to try a little writing, please do! And send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Please

I got a wonderful email yesterday.  Here it is -

Your book, Secrets on the River: A Cassie's Family Story, has been picked to be one of the contenders in the Cover of the Month contest - September 2021.

Would you be willing to click over and vote for me? I'm in a group of 100 at the moment I think, if I make the top 25 I'll probably ask you to vote again. I put this on my FB page, but I wasn't planning to put it here until Mollie suggested it. She's a pretty smart kid - must have had smart parents. Click below to vote.

Please vote 

Commas save lives.

Just as I begin to forget the frustrations teachers have to deal with, Mollie will call and tell me about her day.

You could talk with my amazing editor, Rosie Dee, and she would tell you I’m no expert on comma placement. But I’m better than some. Mollie got the following note from a parent the first week of school.

 

My child will be a bus rider Thursday and Friday he will be a car rider from then on.

 

Okay, in your mind, what is the father saying?

 

In Mollie’s mind, and mine, the kid would ride the bus Thursday and Friday and then be a car rider from then on.

 

No, no… 

 

He was trying to say that the child would ride the bus on Thursday (comma) and (beginning) Friday he would be a car rider from then on.

 

It pissed me off that he called the office to tell them how stupid Mollie was. She just shrugged it off. But pointing out to the office staff that commas save lives:

 

Let’s eat Grandma.

 

Let’s eat, Grandma.

 

 

First World Problems

I have a very stress-free life. There are small worries but at the moment I have no serious problems that worry me. However, I do have several 'first-world problems,' as Mollie calls them, and one of these little problems recently got solved.

 

We are fortunate enough to have a pool. Nick, my cute pool boy, takes care of it and I just get to enjoy. But each summer since I retired, I do have one job - turning on the pump each morning. Nick doesn’t want it running 24 hours a day. Was this a big chore for me? No, of course not, but I still didn’t like it.

 

This onerous task involves going down stairs, my knees still hurt most of the time and stairs are not my friends. Adding to my dislike of stairs is that there are always spider webs built across them and that’s an icky feeling. But I make it to the pool, head through the gate (more spider webs) go across to the other side of the house and walk through the grass – always wet at that time of morning, through the other gate and to the electrical box. 

I’m always stepping carefully by this time looking for snakes and spiders in this area. I open the box – it takes two hands, flip the switch, close the box – two hands again and then head back. By the time I get back to the stairs I swear new webs have been spun, but I manage to force my creaking knees back up to the house.

 

Hmm… I don’t see any tears of pity for me yet.

 

I’ve been doing this for a few years, it’s truly not the worst chore in the world, but I was griping a little about it to Nick. He’s not here to do it most morning because he works for a living. Appropriately, he laughed at me and commented that he was shocked I hadn’t demanded a divorce yet.

 

I thought no more about it until a package arrived for Nick a few days later. When he opened it I saw it was mechanical so I ignored it as he headed downstairs with whatever it was. About an hour later he comes up and hands me a fob. I looked puzzled as he led me to the window and said, “Try it.”

Yes, he had installed a remote control switch. I now stand in my writing room and with a push of the button turn the pump on and off. So if any of you were concerned that I’m not as spoiled as I once one, you can stop worrying. I’m still spoiled as rotten as ever.

I took my break and I found out I missed blogging. I like blogging. Old habits are hard to break. For fifteen years I’ve looked at the little incidents in my life as possible blog posts. And I found I was still doing that. Nothing particularly exciting, just ordinary stuff. But I realized that this blog is where I sort out my thoughts and feelings. 

 

So I’m going to blog when I feel like it about whatever come to mind. If I have something to say about spanking, I’ll say it. But don’t come looking for that because you probably won’t find much.  I’ll still blog things about my sweet husband, my kids, my writing and lots of other random things. I may be here three time a week or three times a month. I just don’t know.

 

I hope you’ll come by for a quick read, or even better, leave a comment if you’d like. I always appreciate that. I’ve made friends here, and I missed them. I can relax now, not having to try to come with something ‘on topic’ once and a while. I’ll see you around.

Fantasy Friday - Texting while Driving

I told you I'd pop back in if I got any new Fantasy Fridays and I got one. I got this one from Adrienne. She says...

My name is Adrienne. I've been married to my hubby Jeremiah for almost 12 years.  We have two sweet kiddos.  I've had a variety of professions, but right now I'm a teacher at my kids' school. :)  This story was written specifically for my hubby and I decided you folks might enjoy it too. Thanks for reading!

Texting While Driving

Rebecca was on her way home from work for her normal date night with her husband Mark. She smiled thinking about the evening they had planned. She had already laid out her outfit: her little black dress, skimpy lacy black panties, and super high spiky heels. She knew the combo would drive Mark mad. On Friday evenings, Mark’s mother and father picked the grandkids up at the daycare and kept them overnight, affording Rebecca and Mark an uninterrupted evening together once a week. Rebecca felt blessed to have such wonderful in-laws who would care for her little ones and allow the young married couple some time alone.

While sitting at a stop light, Rebecca remembered that she had not included her toddler’s antibiotic in his overnight bag. Quickly, she spoke a text message into her phone informing her mother-in-law where she could find Mikey’s medicine. Before she was able to proofread the message, the light turned green. With one eye on the phone and one eye on the road, Rebecca tried to proofread the message while accelerating from the light. After a few seconds, she was satisfied with the message and hit send.

When she arrived home, her husband had not yet arrived. She quickly ran up the stairs and shed her work clothing, careful to place it in the hamper so that Mark would not be upset with her. She clipped her hair to the top of her head and jumped in the shower. As she quickly shaved her legs, she heard Mark coming into the bedroom. “Hi, Honey! I’ll be out in a minute,” she called.

Stepping out of the shower, Rebecca toweled off, then put on her robe and headed into the bedroom to greet her husband. Entering the room, she went to her dresser and grabbed the brush, taking the clip out of her hair and beginning to brush it as she said, “How was your day, Hun?”

Mark came up behind her and craned his neck to kiss her cheek. “I had a pretty good day. I was really looking forward to getting home and having our date. But, then I got a call from my mom about Mikey’s medicine.”

“Oh, is she coming over to get it?”
“No, I told her that we would drop it off on our way to dinner.”
“Okay,” Rebecca answered.
“She said you sent her a text message about it at 5:45.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Weren’t you driving home at that time?” Mark asked suspiciously.
Rebecca shrugged. “Well, yes, but I wrote the text at a stop light,” she answered. Mark turned Rebecca around to look him in the eye. “So you were not moving at

all until after you sent the text?”
Rebecca stood very still. She couldn’t lie to Mark. If he found out that she had

lied, she would be in trouble, but more than that, she hated lying. She tried hard to avoid

doing it, even taking it to the extreme of not telling her children about Santa or the Easter Bunny because she would be lying to them. She had to tell the truth. “I had just started moving when I hit send.”

“So, you were texting and driving?” Mark asked, obviously unhappy. Rebecca swallowed hard. “Sort of.”
“What is the rule, Rebecca?”
“That I cannot text while the car is moving, I mean, if I’m driving,” she said,

avoiding his eyes.
“Why do we have that rule?” Mark asked.
“Because if I’m paying attention to my phone, I’m not paying attention to the road

and someone could get hurt,” she answered very quietly.
“Did anyone get hurt today?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Good,” Mark said, but he didn’t sound happy. He used his index finger to tip her

chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Is there any guarantee that someone won’t be hurt the next time you disobey the rule?”

“No,” she admitted.
“So, what do we need to do about it?”
Rebecca trembled. She knew it was a rhetorical question. The correct answer was

“spank Rebecca,” but she did not want to get spanked tonight. They would miss their dinner reservations and perhaps the off-Broadway show that her husband had bought tickets for months ago. “I know I’ve earned a punishment, Mark, but can we do it later? I don’t want to ruin our evening.”

Mark put his arms around his wife and pressed a kiss to her temple. In truth, he would rather not punish her tonight, but he forced himself to remember that her safety was far more important than dinner, a show, or date night. “Rebecca, I don’t want to miss our special evening, but I don’t think we can put this off. Texting and driving is serious. It can cause someone to be hurt or killed. It is my job to keep you safe and that’s far more important than our date.”

Rebecca sagged and felt tears starting to pool in her eyes. She hated being punished. She hated ruining their special evening. Why hadn’t she waited to send the message? She laid her forehead on Mark’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mark. I know you’ve been looking forward to this evening.”

Mark gently pushed her back enough that he could reach down and untie the knot in the robe’s belt then tug the robe off her shoulders. She set the brush down and straightened her arms so that the robe would come off unhindered. Once she was unclothed, her husband kissed her lips. When he broke the kiss, he said, “I love you,

Sweet Girl, and I’m going to give you the punishment you deserve. Go stand in the corner.”

Rebecca whispered, “Yes, sir.” She turned and headed for the punishment corner, the corner of her bedroom behind the hamper. She moved the hamper aside and touched her nose to the corner where the two walls met. Her tears began to fall in earnest. She was not upset with Mark, but with herself. She had known better than to use her phone while she was driving. Now she was not only ruining her evening, but her husband’s as well. After several minutes, she heard the timer on her husband’s phone trill.

Mark shut off the timer, then spoke. “Rebecca,” Mark said, sounding stern, “please come here and lean over the end of the bed.”

A shiver moved through her abdomen as Rebecca moved to obey her husband. Mark had been spanking her for the entire eight years that they had been married. He was always firm, but fair and kind. She knew he would not harm her, but she also knew his spankings hurt.

She reached the bed and laid her torso on it, so that her hips hit right at the edge of the bed and her legs bent down and away from the bed. She shivered again, this time only partly from fear, but also from cold as the ceiling fan blew directly down on her bare skin, still a little damp from her shower. A moment later she realized that Mark had flipped off the switch, causing the fan to slow to a stop.

She heard the unmistakable sound of leather being slid out of belt loops and the jingle of the belt buckle as the belt was folded in half to make a spanking strap. From experience, Rebecca knew that Mark had clenched the buckle in his hand and wrapped the leather around his fist so as to keep the buckle from accidentally striking her.

Mark spoke again, “Rebecca, tell me why you’re getting a spanking.”

Rebecca whispered, “Because I was texting and driving and putting myself and others in danger.”

“I’ve had to punish you for this before, haven’t I?”
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly.
“So, your punishment tonight is going to be harsher than usual because we

obviously haven’t gotten this lesson across yet. I expect you to be still and take your spanking like a good girl. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If we can get this spanking done without interruptions of kicking feet and the like, we should still be able to make our show, okay?”

Rebecca took a deep breath and nodded. She braced herself for the first spank. Mark brought his arm down and the belt made a slapping sound across her bottom and left a slight red line. The second lick was slappy and stingy and brought tears to

Rebecca’s eyes. Four more just like it fell across her bottom causing her to yelp and waggle her bottom. She again heard Mark’s stern voice behind her, "Hold still, Rebecca."

She stilled her bottom and waited for the next stroke. Instead there came six in quick succession, whack, crack, crack, slap, crack, slap! Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat as Mark lit up her back end. "Oww! ow ow ow ow ow!!!" Again the belt lashed, this time catching her just underneath the curve of her bottom where the thigh connects to the buttocks. She raised up off the bed with a loud yelp. Mark waited for her to return to her correct position, which she did a moment later.

Mark placed his right hand on her back to hold her down while his belt-wielding left responded with three much harder spanks. “I. . .crack. . said. . . crack . . . be . . . crack . . . still, girl!” She yelped at each spank, and again stilled her motion and worked hard to obey.

Mark said, “Five more, Sweet Girl. Remember to be still.” He brought the belt down again and again, and she could no longer contain the wails bubbling up in her throat, but she kept her bottom still. Finally, the assault stopped. Rebecca panted, feeling as though she had run a marathon, and hoped desperately that her punishment was done, but she knew that Mark probably had other plans.

Mark took her arm and tugged gently, saying, “C’mere, Rebecca.” He helped her get up. She moved to hug him. He hugged her back, then whispered into her hair, “You need to go back to the corner, Sweet Girl. We’re not done yet.” She let out a sob and moved away from him into the corner. Again, he set his timer.

When the timer went off, Rebecca turned around and saw Mark move toward the straight backed chair that he had set in the middle of the room, sit down, and pat his left knee. She noticed that her flat-backed hair brush lay on the ground near his feet. She groaned. She detested getting spanked with that brush.

She moved toward him, still hoping that they could make it to the show. He held his hand up to her to help her across his knees. She took a shaky breath, then accepted his assistance. The brush was beside her left hand. When he asked for it, she picked it up and handed it to him. He put his right arm across her waist and tucked her in close to his body, holding her firmly.

Rebecca felt the cool, smooth back of the brush rub over her punished cheeks, and the tears that had nearly stopped while she was in the corner, started anew. She put her palms on the floor in front of her and her feet on the floor behind her, sighing

deeply.

“Time to get this over with,” Mark thought. He lifted the brush and brought it down on her right cheek then on her left. She cried out, but she held position.

When he swung again, harder this time, Rebecca screeched. He brought the brush down on her bottom again, always careful to avoid hitting the same spot twice in a row. Rebecca felt the hard wood cracking against her buttocks, and she fought to control her breathing and her impulse to protect her poor, suffering bottom. It took all of her strength to simply accept the next swing and the next. On about the fifth or sixth spank, she broke down and began to wail and scissor her legs wildly. Mark stopped. “Be still, Rebecca. We are almost done, but you have to cooperate,” he warned quietly.

“Yes, sir. I’m -- I’m--sorry sir.” She managed to choke out, and planted her toes firmly back on the floor.

Mark said, “What happens when you are not lying still and cooperating?”

Rebecca thought for a moment. She really, really did not want to answer that question. She knew she deserved extra spanks for her disobedience, but she did not want extra spanks. She took a deep breath and answered truthfully, “Sir, I get extra spanks for my lack of cooperation.”

Mark said, “How many would you suggest?” He already knew that he would give her two on each thigh as her extras, but he was curious to know what her attitude was toward the extra punishment she had earned.

It took her a long minute to work up her courage to answer him. He was nearly ready to order her to answer when he heard her whisper, “Sir, I deserve the opportunity to cooperate from the beginning again. From the time we started the brush, I mean,” she added quickly.

It was an interesting thought. He had planned to give her four extras on her thighs. She was suggesting six extras on her buttocks. If his calculations were correct, that would bring her total up to 35 spanks during this session. Though that was far more than he would normally give, Mark decided that 35 spanks sounded reasonable in light of the gravity of the offense and the fact that she continued to transgress such an important rule. “I think that punishment would indeed fit the crime,” he said. On a whim he said, “Please ask me to give you the opportunity you have earned.”

Rebecca closed her eyes. She hated having to ask for punishments. She

whispered, “Sir, I have not lain still and accepted my punishment as I ought to have done. Will you please start this phase of my punishment over again?”

Mark rubbed the fingertips of his right hand over her back. “Good girl,” he whispered. He thought it would probably help her self control if she knew that the end was near. He knew her backside had to be burning. He said, “I want you to count these last ten out loud.”

He noted with satisfaction that her tension in her shoulders and back lessened a bit when she heard how close they were to being finished. She said, “Yes, sir.”

Mark cracked the paddle against her right butt cheek firmly but not hard. “One, sir,” she said. He spanked the left cheek. “Two, sir.” He continued the pattern as she counted. Finally, he landed the last spank and was finished.

Rebecca lay quietly across his lap, crying softly. Mark's heart broke a little. “We’re done, Sweetheart. You can get up now.” Mark rubbed her back and let her come to him in her own time. After a few minutes, she pushed herself up and turned around in his arms. He sat her up and arranged her carefully on his leg, trying to avoid the tenderest of her flesh. Pushing the disheveled curls away, he kissed her tear-streaked face.

She put her arms around him and sobbed, "I'm sorry, Mark, that I was texting while driving and that I scared you."

Mark struggled to understand her words. He caught, "Sorry Mark," and that was plenty. "It's ok now, Rebecca. It's all over. You were such a good girl." He held her and stroked her hair, crooning to her and shushing her.

When she had calmed down a bit, she looked into his eyes. She knew there was one more thing her husband expected of her. “Mark, thank you for giving me the punishment I earned so that I can learn to do what is right. Tonight while I sit on my sore bottom, it will help me remember not to text and drive.”

Mark pulled her into a gentle hug. “I love you, Sweet Girl. Do you want to get ready to go on our date?”

Rebecca nodded and stood up. “Yes.”
Mark grabbed her wrist. “Remember, no panties tonight, Sweet Girl.”
She hated the “no panties after a spanking” rule, but she only said, “Yes sir.”

She moved toward the closet.

Mark followed her to get his own clothes changed. He stopped her and turned her to look at him. “The next time I find out you have been texting and driving, I will spank you every evening for a week so that you will be sitting on a sore bottom to and from work. That should help you remember.”

Rebecca shivered and rubbed her sore bottom. “Don’t worry. I am not going to forget for a long time.”

Mark smiled, kissed her, then swatted her sore backend playfully, making her jump. “Now get ready, Sweet Girl. We have a show to attend.”

Thank you Adrienne! This was a good one. I love getting new stories! So if you have one I'll still be very happy to share it here. Just send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

Secrets on the River is out!

It’s here! Finally the new book is out! I told you I’d be back for that. I really love this book. If you’ve never read any of my work before, I think you’re going to like this one – all my books are stand-alone. But if you have read my stuff and you already know Cassie, Sue and Annie, then I think you’re going to love this one. Secrets are always interesting.

I hope you’ll let me know what you think of this one – here is fine, but reviews on Amazon do help sell books so if you’re willing, I would appreciate it very much.

Here’s all the information, buy link, the blurb and a snippet. There will be a different snippet at PK Corey’s Reading Room on Saturday. 

 

You can find it on Amazon now!

 

Secrets On the River (a Cassie’s family story)

Book two in the On the River series

  

Everyone has secrets, but most don’t have major implications. When Jenny tries to keep her weekend activities from Cal, the repercussions of him finding out land only on her. But some secrets are bigger and more far reaching. You would think that as long as Cassie, Sue and Annie have known each other, surely they could have no real secrets from one another. But you’d be surprised. The full truth behind one secret may never be known, another could change the face of The Landing forever.

 

From steamy sex to both playful and painful spankings, the people on the river continue to live and love and marvel at all that are learning.

From Secrets on the River:

 

Allie adjusted both shower heads and called to Ryan. As he stepped in, they both eyed the other thinking, Damn, what a body! The swelling of Allie’s stomach with their child took Ryan’s breath away. He couldn’t believe it made her even more beautiful.

Allie wiggled her butt as the hot water increased the sting. She poured soap in her hands and began washing Ryan’s back. She rubbed and caressed his shoulders and then down his back. He had the cutest, tightest little tushie in the world. It was all she could do to keep from biting it, and occasionally she didn’t try to resist and nipped away.

Going around him, Allie began washing his chest and arms. She eventually looked down to what she’d been waiting for. Ryan’s erection was magnificent! Her soapy hands slid along the shaft and then gently cupped his balls, massaging ever so gently. An iron rod, covered in silk, Allie thought, remembering a line from one of the secret ‘dirty’ books she’s kept hidden in her bedroom when she was a teenager. Cheesy she thought, but oh so accurate.

Still caressing, she helped rinse him off. She looked up at him and asked, “What next?”

They stood together, the water beating on them for a moment before Ryan answered. “Put your hands on the seat.” Allie eagerly turned and complied. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?” Ryan asked.

“Probably,” Allie answered without conviction.

Ryan grinned as he rained down a half-dozen more swats on her stinging bottom. Then, not willing to wait another minute, he held her by her hips and plunged into her warm depths. 

Again! Allie silently begged as Ryan did just that, over and over. When he reached around to stroke her clit, Allie came at the first touch. She shivered and arched her neck as she clamped Ryan like a velvet glove. The intensity of her orgasm triggered his and he cried out her name. 

Then they were still, each breathing hard. Ryan concentrated on staying on his feet and trying to get a drop or two of blood to his head. Slowly he stepped back and pulled Allie up into his arms. 

After a few moments Ryan asked, “Are you crying?”

Allie nodded and they held one another more tightly. Ryan understood. He was nearly crying himself as he wondered how in God’s name he’d gotten so lucky.

Cassie Space series:

Cassie's Space (book one)   

Cassie's Tale (book two)                       

Cassie on the Move (book three)          

Cassie's River Living (book four)        

Cassie's Conflict (book five)

Cassie's Influence (book six)

Cassie's Ordeal (book seven)

Cassie Corralled (book eight)

Cassie's Road Trip (book nine)

Cassie's Life (book ten)

Paperbacks can be found here. 

Cal's Law Series:

Cal's Law (book one)

Becoming Family (book two)

Educating Jenny (book three)

Searching for Home (book four)

On the River series:

On the River (book one)

Secrets on the River (book two)

Corbin's Bend

Returning to Us