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“Well, I’d use my lips instead, but the last time I tried that when you were driving, we almost ran off the road.”
“Baby, do you truly think this is some sort of game? Some type of foreplay? Because I assure you it’s neither.”
“It’s not?” Suddenly I could feel my face blooming with heat, and I yanked my hand free, tugging my skirt from the seatbelt.
“Stop.”
“This isn’t funny, Brett. I thought it was… well, a bit too kinky, but I was willing to play along.”
His right hand took both of mine as he used his left to once again arrange my skirt to bare me. “I told you exactly what this was about and that it had nothing to do with kink or sex. I’m not sure when your brain made the switch, but let me be crystal clear. You are sitting on your bare ass, skirt up, in order to focus on the fact that you are not in control. To give you a visual reminder that you will be getting a spanking. Not getting off—getting your ass blistered.”
I could do nothing but gape at him, every word spoken sounding like the absolute truth, and he still wasn’t done.
“Sit on your hands and spread your legs. You’ll learn that it is far preferable to obey my first instruction than to force me to add another element to your lesson. And, if I have to reach over and spread your legs myself, you can be assured that your ass will not be the only part of your anatomy receiving a spanking.”
It was the strangest thing I’d ever done, feeling my hands pressed between the leather seat and my bare butt, but I obeyed and even spread my legs apart. It was embarrassing as hell, but I sure as shit was no longer worrying about red lights and voyeurs. Instead, all I could focus on was the fact that my husband was actually going to spank me. Me… a twenty-five-year-old woman was going to be turned over his knees and spanked like… like a naughty little girl.
It wasn’t until he pulled up to the gates of the base that I started whimpering. I knew exactly what happened at these posts. Brett reached into the backseat and then dropped the blanket we always had on hand over my lap. When I moved to adjust it, he shook his head.
“Hands under your ass or the blanket comes off.”
Blushing furiously, I could only nod when the soldier on duty bent to check the IDs Brett handed him through the window against our actual faces. The moment the cards were back in Brett’s possession and we were through the gate, he snagged the blanket and tossed it into the backseat. When he gave me a pointed look before dropping his eyes to my lap, I opened my legs once more.
Finally, we turned onto our street and were home. I had my legs closed and my hand on the doorknob when I yelped again as another slap stung my thigh.
“I didn’t give you permission to release position,” he said, turning off the engine and opening his door. By the time he opened mine, my legs were apart again. He unbuckled my seatbelt, and I was grateful he’d pulled into the garage because I was positive I would not have been able to obey his next instruction if he’d parked in the driveway.
“Keep your skirt at your waist. When we get inside, drop it by the door and go stand in the center of the living room.”
“Ye-yes, sir.”
He nodded and took my arm, helping me from the car. Once inside, I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor. It wasn’t far to the living room, but it felt like a mile as I covered the distance with my entire bottom half exposed.
“Turn to your left. Legs shoulder-width apart, arms folded across your back, eyes straight ahead. Do not move out of position until I release you.”
Seriously? He really expects me to stand ‘at ease’ half-naked in the middle of the room?A swat against my butt and the single word, “Now,” told me he did. My eyes flicked to the window, glad that the drapes were drawn. It made it slightly easier to obey, though I couldn’t help but wonder what adult woman—especially a civilian—obediently stood bare-assed in a position that could hardly be called sexy. A woman who agreed to try a dynamic based on one person being in charge. And that person wasn’t me. It was the man I can hear moving about behind me.
I could feel the breeze from the AC wafting over my ass and between my spread legs, could feel the goosebumps rising on my skin as cold air met the heated, damp pouch of my pussy. With my eyes staring straight ahead, I focused on the framed wedding photo on the wall across from me. I loved that picture of us running beneath a canopy of raised swords. As memories of our wedding day washed over me, I couldn’t help but compare the expression on his face in the photo with the one I’d seen tonight. He wasn’t smiling, didn’t have that look of anticipation for a wedding night in his eyes like he’d had a year ago. Tonight I’d seen a look of steely determination. Why that image had a trickle of moisture slip into the folds of my sex, I had no clue.
I also had no idea how long he made me stand ‘at ease’, but found myself wishing he’d allow me to stay when he called me to him. Being released could only mean one thing. It was time to accept the consequences for my choices. Swallowing hard, I turned and made my way to where Brett stood.
