“So, when am I going to see you get spanked?”
Bertie nearly spat seltzer into his beard. “I beg your pardon?”
Leanne smiled politely, as if she’d asked for nothing more than the time. She took another swig of her beer, tapping the bottle on the kitchen table. “You tell me that my sister spanks you at home, and I believe you. But as it stands, I’ve only seen Rachel getting her butt smacked, and you’ve seen me take it a bunch of times—“
“Twice, and I was out of the room for both.”
He was still getting used to the new accommodations. Since their surprise engagement the year before, Jeff and Leanne had decided that they needed a place with more room than the single-bedroom bungalow than they’d been living in. It meant that Jeff had to leave the home he’d built himself, but in exchange he’d gained a family – not only in Leanne, but in her sixteen-year-old son BJ as well.
Bertie hadn’t asked about it, but he suspected that new arrangement was not without its complications. Maybe BJ didn’t recognize his mom’s day collar as any more than a necklace, but surely the kid had questions as to why she called her fiancé Daddy, or why she so often had trouble sitting down comfortably.
“Okay, twice,” she admitted, not willing to let the topic rest. “But if you’re getting it too, how come I’ve never seen it? That doesn’t seem fair.”
“I stay on my best behaviour,” said Bertie, and swallowed the last of his own drink. “At least, for as long as I need to.”
That week, for once, Leanne’s record was flawless. She’d done her assigned chores, kept up with the demands of her job and bill payments, and successfully resisted the urge to take out her frustrations on other people. Clearly she was proud of herself. But still Bertie found himself thinking she’d have been better company if she’d spent a half hour in time-out first.
“Leanne, please tell me you’re not being a brat in front of our guests?”
She sat up straight in her chair. “Of course not, Daddy.”
Jeff emerged from the basement, a sprinkle of drywall still clinging to his bald head. He kissed Leanne on the cheek and joined them at the table.
“Rachel says she needs a few more minutes to get the movie ready. I’m glad to see that the two of you are getting along in the meantime. Bertie, can I get you a refill?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Does Leanne want another beer, or will that get her in trouble?”
Leanne went red, but Jeff just chuckled in response. “We’ve changed up Leanne’s discipline program since we moved. Since she has BJ every other week, I’ve had to come up with more… subtle forms of punishment. Isn’t that right, dear?”
“Last year I couldn’t have even told you what cod liver oil was,” Leanne said to Bertie with a shudder. “I actually missed having him beat my ass.”
“And so we compromised – now instead she gets maintenance spankings on alternate Fridays. Is that something that you and Rachel practice?”
It was Bertie’s turn to be embarrassed. “Um, I don’t think so?”
“You really should try it. Even if they’re not used for punishment, there’s something to be said for the consistency of regular spankings. And the cardio! I mean, look at these pythons.” He lifted one scrawny bicep to demonstrate. “I’m serious, though. At your age, I imagine you already have to schedule any intimate time you spend together. This is no different. Think of it as a sort of date night.“
“I’m confused, Daddy. Is the date supposed to be with Rachel, or her hairbrush?”
“Leanne, dear, you’re really not helping.”
“I appreciate your advice,” Bertie replied. “That said, I don’t think that Rachel and I have quite the same kind of relationship that the two of you do.”
Jeff looked hurt. “Of course not. I only meant… Rachel! Rachel, what do you think?”
She’d just appeared at the top of the steps – Bertie’s girlfriend, his lover, and yes, the woman who occasionally spanked him. At barely five feet tall and looking younger than her forty-one years, she didn’t cut the most intimidating figure. She hadn’t been able to decide if the new house was too hot or too cold, and she’d once again taken off her sweater and tied it around her waist, leaving behind a lacy black tank top that let her flaunt her tattooed arms.
“I think… the show’s about to begin.”
***
From the moment he’d signed the papers on the new house, Jeff had been ready to start knocking down every wall that wasn’t load-bearing. A retired contractor himself, he had big plans for every room in the house, plus a few that didn’t exist yet. It was Leanne who put her foot down and convinced her elderly and diabetic partner not to start any projects that he wouldn’t live to finish.
Instead, Jeff had directed his time and energy into a new home theatre system. The specifics of his setup had gone over Bertie’s head, but Rachel, ever the audiophile, had squealed with glee all throughout Jeff’s description of the surround sound. Starting the movie, Jeff nestled into his power sofa and promised that the bass alone would keep them glued to their seats.
Forty minutes later, he was sound asleep. Leanne excused herself to carry him upstairs to bed and told the couple not to wait for her.
As the credits finally rolled, Rachel leaned over and laid her head on Bertie’s chest. “So, what did you think?”
“Predictable. It was obvious that the mailman was the killer—“
“Not the movie. You’ve been thinking about what Jeff said since before it started.”
Bertie bit his tongue. “Do you have a take?”
“Honestly, I’ve been there and done that.” Rachel yawned. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that Leanne’s into it, but you’re not as high-maintenance as my sister is, or as I was, you know, back in my day. It’s not like I need to discipline you regularly. I just… enjoy the opportunity when it comes, that’s all.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say. And it’s what I told Jeff.”
“But…?”
“But… honey, do you remember the last time you spanked me?”
She hadn’t expected that question. “Is this a test? Because it’s only been like two or three weeks. Remember, I was counting my change for the vending machine at work and I asked you for some quarters because I was short. And you said ‘you just noticed?’”
Bertie chortled. It was still a good line, even after the fact. His diminutive lover glared back at him. “I hope the laugh you got was worth sleeping on your stomach.”
“It would have been, but that’s actually my point. You told me that I was getting a spanking when you got back from work, but then you were late and I’d already gone to bed.”
“Shame on me, then. Okay, I definitely remember a time last month after we’d been to your mom’s and I had you in the corner—no, that was the time I left my phone at her place and you had to drive back and get it. Fuck!”
“Maybe you’ve forgotten, but we also had to drop our Valentine’s Day plans this year because I ate too much carbonara at lunch. These things happen. We have jobs. Errands. Friends and family. And we’re not as… energetic… as we were in our twenties.”
He’d been preparing some version of that speech all throughout the movie, but the thought had started to creep up on him long before. In addition to the postponements and interruptions, there had been any number of teases with no follow-through. Invasive as it had been, Jeff’s probing had finally brought forth an alternative.
Rachel didn’t look enthused, and he supposed that he couldn’t blame her.
“I don’t know, Bertie. You love me for my spontaneity, and I like that I can snap my fingers and go from being your girlfriend to being your mistress whenever the mood strikes. Don’t you?”
“I love it! But it doesn’t feel like the mood gets the chance to strike much anymore.” He paused. “Christmas, by the way. The last time you spanked me was on Christmas.”
“But that’s… almost six months ago. You mean when Sherrie lent me her cane?”
“I hated that cane.”
“That’s too bad, because I’m getting it back for the next time you crack a short joke.” Rachel rubbed her forehead, threads of black and silver spilling between her knuckles. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You win. You’re right – we can’t keep doing this the way we’re used to, so let’s make it a commitment. How about the last weekend of every month, maybe starting Saturday?”
Bertie let out a sigh of relief. He’d worried that Rachel wouldn’t want to talk about it, or that their conversation would turn into an argument – but she understood that they wanted the same thing. And there was still some room for spontaneity.
“What about starting tonight?”
Rachel covered her mouth. “Bertie! Jeff and Leanne are right upstairs, and it’s going to be my butt on the line if they wake up!”
“Hey, my butt’s already on the line. Don’t you think Jeff would approve?” He rose from his chair and started to unbuckle his belt. “I mean, should still try to be quiet about it—“
“Stop.”
He froze. Rachel had held up her hand.
“We’re going to try something new first. Stand up straight.”
He hesitated, then leaned back, puffing out his chest. Rachel stood up and looked him over. With both of them upright, she barely came up to his armpit, but it was clear who had the power.
Silence reigned for a moment. Rachel peered toward the door to the den.
“Take off your clothes,” she commanded. “Shirt, socks, pants. Leave the briefs.”
Bertie grinned and peeled off his jeans. “Should I call you Mistress now?”
“You can start with ‘yes, dear’ and ‘no, dear’ and we’ll go from there.” She walked around him, her eyes wandering. She took in the movement of her boyfriend’s limbs as he undressed, the familiar contours of his body. “Can you do that?”
“Yeah, I can- ow!” He reacted to a sharp smack on his flank.
“Quiet, remember.”
“Yes, dear,” he whispered back.
He could swear she purred as she completed her loop, coming in front of him once again. She ran her hand over his broad chest, clawing at his coarse hair. In her eyes he read no plan, only a desire to explore her newfound privilege.
She twisted his nipple once, hard, and grinned as he winced. His hand wavered, and she swatted it down.
“Hands behind your back… no, on your head. You know what I’m going to do next?”
“No, dear.”
“Exactly. Isn’t this exciting?”
She stepped behind him again, her fingers trailing across his ribs, down to his stomach, and found purchase in his waistband. Her breath blew through the fine hairs at the back of his neck. She pressed against him, her tiny body warm against him.
Gradually, she started to yank his underwear down. Each inch of skin came alive under her touch, but her path was slow, too slow. His raging cock caught the fabric on the way down, and she could pull no further.
“It’s stuck—“ he started, and was rewarded with another slap on the ass for his trouble.
“I know.” Her hands drew together at the peak of his briefs and slid under the waistband. Bertie closed his eyes and tried his best to think of the movie they’d just watched, with the predictable plot twist. The route he’d use to drive home. Recent football scores. Something, anything, that would distract him from Rachel’s light touch against one of the more sensitive parts of his anatomy. The cloth tugged—
The nylon snapped back against his thighs, and his briefs sank to the floor.
She must have felt his back muscles tensing.
“No touching.”
His cock bobbed madly in front of him, the stress building in his nether regions. Rachel had relaxed her grip, but the memory of her touch remained.
“Please,” he whimpered.
“You’re the one who wants to get this once a month. Do you remember why you started letting me take control?”
“No, dear.”
“Trust, honey. Do you still trust me?”
Even still. “Yes, dear.”
“You’re not embarrassed that your girlfriend spanks you?”
A little bit. “No, dear.”
She squeezed him gently.
“And would you like me to spank you now?”
“…Yes, dear.”
Rachel nestled herself in the centre of the sofa. Bertie expected to be pulled in after her, but instead she held up her hand again as she toyed with the switch in the armrest. The back of the couch went up, then back again until Rachel deigned that she was comfortable and well-supported, and then she closed her eyes in bliss.
“Should I leave you and the couch alone?”
She opened one eye. “I’m sorry, Bertie. Did you say something?”
“No, dear.”
“I didn’t think so. I’m quite comfortable where I am. Why don’t you come over and be comfortable with me?”
She pointed down in her lap. It was familiar enough that he didn’t need the direction. He settled across her knees, with room to spare on either side of him. The air vent above sent a chill down his back, reminding him of his nakedness, and he clenched involuntarily.
“Remember,” Rachel whispered, “this isn’t a punishment. I’m not trying to hurt you… but you are going to feel this.”
She struck without warning, her hand fluttering across his cheek a half-dozen times before he could even draw a breath. He twisted out of pure reflex before it dawned on him that he’d felt nothing but the light tapping of her palm. Rachel giggled.
She repeated the move on the other cheek, with just enough added force that his ass was left warmer than before. Then she went back to the first and started again at the same level. Bertie sighed in relief. This wasn’t so bad…
After the fourth cycle, he found himself starting to twitch. She wasn’t just teasing him with the light touch, she had started a slow fire under his skin that flared up with each successive slap. Every inch was burning.
And then Rachel really got started.
“Ow! Not so hard!” Bertie hissed.
“This isn’t any harder than I usually spank you, honey. I see what you mean about needing this more often.”
Damn, she was right – even with his clothes on, he’d taken tougher spankings. Their absence had made him soft. He drew into himself and—
No.
That was the trap, wasn’t it? When the going got tough, or complicated, or even just embarrassing, he’d just disengage. Retreat into his comfort zone.
Though it took every gram of self-control, he forced himself to relax. He spread his legs, giving Rachel access to his sensitive inner thighs, to his cock and balls. He was letting her in, giving her a show of trust…
…And it took only an instant for Rachel to take merciless advantage of his new position. His ass was tingling from her efforts, but it still had the area and muscle memory to absorb that kind of impact. He couldn’t say the same about the sensitive patch of skin underneath his cheeks.
The unexpected swat hit him in the intimates with a force that nearly shot him out of her lap. A squeal threatened to escape, and he desperately ground his teeth together to stay quiet.
Somewhere nearby, he heard a chuckle.
Rachel heard it too. She stopped suddenly, her hand still in mid-swing.
Caught, Leanne shrugged. “I came down to check up on you guys. Don’t let me interrupt you.”
Bertie tried to wriggle out of his girlfriend’s lap, but Rachel’s grip remained firm.
“Bertie and I are having a little discussion,” he heard her say. “We’ll be on our way in a moment.”
“Yeah, I heard you ‘discussing’ from upstairs—“
“Leanne, go back to bed.”
Bertie swore he could hear Leanne’s jaw drop,
“I just live here,” she muttered, and retreated.
Rachel’s hand settled back down on Bertie’s rump, but it came only with a reassuring squeeze. He very slowly exhaled.
“Seriously, Rachel? Right in the taint?”
“It was too tempting to pass up. Was that a good ‘ouch’ or bad ‘ouch’?”
He rubbed his thighs together, trying to soothe the sting, but the friction only made the feeling sharper. Truth be told, it wasn’t the worst sensation he’d gotten from a spanking. Maybe even-
“Just… tell me when you’re going to do it first.”
“Well, if you’re going to show it, I’m going to smack it.” Rachel stuck her tongue out and gave Bertie a final swat to his seat. He stumbled awkwardly to his feet, his seared skin flaring with the change in position and pressure.
“So,” said Bertie, “what do you think about maintenance spankings now?”
His backside tingled, but the worst had already passed. He rubbed anyway. His cock felt like it could use the same attention, but that would have to wait.
“You know, I think the structure might be good for us both. Knowing when it’s going to happen will give me time to prepare – and I’ve had a few ideas knocking around in my head since Christmas. Some things we can try.”
“Uh-oh.”
“’Uh-oh’ is right. But speaking of structure… why don’t we get dressed and go home so that you can thank your Mistress properly?”
Her eyes twinkled in the dark.
“Yes, dear.”
