Talking About Myself----Spanking Stories Book Club

Anyone who knows me will tell you I have no trouble talking about myself, so why do I feel a bit awkward about talking about my story, Reconnecting, from Coming to Terms?

Maybe it's the idea of asking others to talk about it. I guess it doesn't matter, though, because it's happening today.

Reconnecting is the continuing story of Reece and Daisy from Underwear Probation.

Blurb: When Daisy's online time begins to interfere with her relationship with her husband, Reece, he takes matters into his own hands. In addition to applying a liberal dose of discipline to her backside which has spent too much time sitting at the computer, he arranges for them to spend some time at a remote resort with no Wi-Fi. Sometimes you have to disconnect in order to reconnect.

Underwear Probation was a pretty sexy book so when I set out to write more about this couple, I expected them to behave the same way. They didn't. I was as surprised as anyone that Reconnecting didn't involve sex. As I wrote the story, I thought they were getting into some serious issues so the idea of then hopping in the sack (or other places) for some hot sex when those issues were unresolved didn't feel right to me. Apparently it didn't feel right to them either. There were a couple of references to things like "after a night of hot hotel sex" but no descriptions.

This scene is one that stands out for me.

     He hated it when she treated him like an adversary.  He didn’t expect her to clap her hands in glee before being disciplined, but he wasn’t the enemy.

            He rubbed soft circles on her buttocks, then moved on to do the same across her back, and even reached up to her shoulders,  which were probably sore from leaning over a computer screen all day, though she’d never admit it.  He worked on the knots there before making his way back down to his intended target.

            He spoke softly.  “I realize you don’t agree with my decision to discipline you.”  Although he couldn’t see her face, he imagined her cheeky expression in response.  “But, I appreciate the fact that you have not resisted.”

            His hand lifted and lowered to connect with her left cheek.  Usually the first stroke of red to her fair skin excited him.  Tonight it saddened him.  

            He continued his duties.  Three quick swats to the same spot on her left cheek, followed by an equal number on the right.

            Daisy neither spoke nor moved.

            By now warmth spread across her buttocks.  His fingers started to sting, but his task had just begun.

            He brought his palm down repeatedly on the same spot on the underside of her cheek, but it brought no response from Daisy.  She did not complain or resist.  Her stoic submission created an ache in his heart.  While he tried to connect with her, she shut him out.

            Usually a firm spanking helped them to resolve their differences, but this one seemed to be having the opposite effect.  Unwilling to allow her to avoid punishment, Reece set his resolve and swung his hand down upon her backside with even more force.  By now, her entire rear end colored deep crimson, her thighs nearly as dark.

            Under normal circumstances, Reece would have deemed this amount of punishment sufficient, but he could tell she had not given up control.  Had not given up her righteousness.

He reached for the nightstand and pulled out the leather paddle.  Her body stiffened at the sound of the drawer opening and closing.  They both knew it could only mean one thing.

            He’d honestly hoped realizing he had the paddle would create a stronger reaction in Daisy, but it hadn’t.

            He sighed again.  He knew what she needed even if she refused to believe him.

            His already stiff fingers wrapped around the handle of the paddle.  He repositioned Daisy on his lap and held her close to his side with one hand.  Anticipating the next move, they each took a deep, steadying breath.

            The paddle cracked against Daisy’s cheek and the sound echoed in their nearly silent bedroom.  Daisy remained quiet, but he saw her dig her hands into the deep pile of the carpet.

Perhaps he had progressed against her resolve.  He continued with the paddle.  The color of her backside went from crimson to magenta.  A part of him had to admire her stoicism, or sheer stubbornness.  He’d given her much less severe spankings in the past, which had caused such an outcry from her that a passerby might have thought she was possessed.  But tonight, nothing.

            Her fingers continued to dig into the carpet and he continued to punish her bottom.

            Daisy’s ragged breathing mixed with his own.  By now sweat beaded on his forehead and he sensed he was digging a hole to nowhere.

          He returned the paddle to the nightstand and softly closed the drawer in resignation.  After he applied a thick layer of lotion to her chafed backside and thighs, he gently lifted Daisy to stand in front of him.  He longed to cuddle her in his lap, but given the severe punishment he’d administered, he knew sitting would cause her even more discomfort.

            Once she stood, he held her hands in his, kissed them, and gazed into her face.  Her eyes, though less defiant than when the punishment session began, still held a spark of insolence.  Her lips were swollen and red from being bitten in her efforts to keep from crying out.  He retrieved a tissue from the nightstand and blotted at small spots of dried blood on the side of her mouth.  

            He rose from the bed and pulled back the covers, then guided his wife between the sheets. He tucked her in, brushed errant hair away from her face, and gently kissed her forehead before he left the room.