Memories, Chapter 2 (M / F, somewhat long)

[beguiling]

Teresa didn’t even have time to whimper or plead before Nick smoothly sat up, taking her with him and standing her in front of him. “Get the panties down, angel girl. Now.” She had a choice now, and she knew it. Did she want a worse spanking just for the sake of useless argument? Before the question had even filtered completely through her mind, Teresa had reached up under her sundress to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her silky panties and was pulling them down to her knees.

Nick waited just until she’d straightened back up and then positioned Teresa across his knees. He could hear her sniffles starting already, but refused to let it faze him. With strong hands – amazingly so for a man who worked in an office – Nick methodically set about teaching his wife a well-earned lesson. He didn’t bother talking during that spanking, Teresa knew why she was there. He let his hand make the point clear. Ignoring Teresa’s wails and cries, he kept a firm hold on her waist with his left hand while his right hand painted from the top curve of her bottom to an inch below her ‘sit spot’ a bright, painful cherry red. Finally, Nick paused, surveying his handiwork. He could see faint outlines of his fingers in a couple of places. She’d had enough of his hand.

Nick stood Teresa up, steadying her when she wobbled a bit. “Don’t!” he cracked out sharply as her hands flew to her backside. “You know better, Teresa Marie. Don’t push me today.” Between his tone and the look on his face, Teresa knew to comply immediately and completely. She satisfied herself, and him, by holding her skirt up, leaving her bottom open to the cool air, although embarrassingly on display. Still crying, she turned to head back to the corner, hoping. But Nick’s voice stopped her. “Uh uh, angel girl. Get the hairbrush.” Nick was sure they could hear Teresa’s pleading wail two blocks away, but she obediently crossed to the vanity and picked up the heavy, ridged, mahogany hairbrush. Her deep brown eyes pleading, and looking so pitiful and pathetic with her hair falling from its neat chignon and sticking to her face where her tears were tracking down, Nick almost gave in and ended it there. But he knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t. He just held out his hand for the brush and, still crying, Teresa handed it to him.

Again, Nick wasted no time as he put her over his lap. This time, though, he positioned her perfectly: lowering his left leg a little so that her bottom – which was resting directly on his hard right thigh – was tilted up a little. “Hands,” he ordered abruptly, and Teresa hesitantly squirmed as she slid both hands back to the small of her back, where Nick grasped them both in his huge paw. He’d once struck her hand when she’d reached back to cover her bottom, and it’d nearly broken his heart because he hadn’t meant to. Since then, whenever he used anything other than his hand, Nick held hers safely out of the way. He ran his fingers lightly down the length of her thighs, waiting for her to relax a little. He was going to punish her, true, but he didn’t see any need to bruise her. And now was time for a lecture. “Teresa, you went behind my back. You took advantage of my trust, went someplace I’d specifically told you not to go without me,” and Teresa sobbed anew, “and lied right to my face about it. That’s a lot for one woman as tiny as you, angel girl. And the spanking you’ve earned for it is a little too much for one woman as tiny as you.”

Teresa held her breath expectantly. But Nick quickly dashed her hopes yet again. “That’s why you’re going to be getting several of them. In two days, you’re going to be back in this position for a hand warm-up again. But that time, you’re going to be finding out what my belt feels like.” Teresa pleaded again, getting nowhere, but trying really hard. “I’m going to keep your little fanny sore for a full week, Teresa Marie. And you will never want to pull that stunt again by the time I’m through with you. Is that clear?” And he crashed the brush in the first of many, many swats to her already sore bottom.

Teresa hollered at the first contact with that brush, then screamed and pleaded through the ensuing spanking. Nick didn’t hold back much, and her backside was covered with welts and splotches from the top of her bottom to mid-thigh. He stopped suddenly, and rested the brush against the top of her left thigh, “Am I going to have to talk about this again with you, Teresa Marie?” Nick demanded.

“NOOOO!!” she wailed, sobbing again. “I’ve learned my lesson! Nick, pleasssee…” But Nick raised the brush, spinning it so that the bristles were aimed down, and briskly landed five hard swats to her left cheek. Then he had to wait until Teresa’s shouts wound down again.

“Are you going to connive and plot and plan to deceive me again, Teresa Marie? Are you ever going to lie to me again?” he growled. She just sobbed harder, but Nick demanded an answer, “ARE you?”

“Nooo, Nick!! No! I won’t. Oh, Niiiiiiiick!!!” And she cried out loudly as she felt his arm lift and the bristles landed against her right cheek.

“Remember that, little girl,” Nick said, his voice loud to be heard over her cries. Then he finally set the brush down beside him on the bed and stood Teresa up, steadying her again. He stood as well, and lifted her in his arms, carrying her to their comfort chair and held her while she sobbed herself to sleep, never seeing the tears in her husband’s eyes.

***

“That was nearly 40 years ago,” Teresa said softly as one arthritic hand slipped back to caress her bottom. “And after all this time, I still swear I can feel that week of spankings.” For Nick had kept his promise, and Teresa got a sound spanking every other night that week. As soon as the pain had faded from one, Nick gave her another. And Teresa never did go on that day trip … nor any trip that Nick was unaware of for the duration of their marriage.

Kissing her fingertips, Teresa brushed them against the image of Nick’s face in a picture of the two of them that he’d kept on his desk. It had been taken when he’d landed his first job out of college. Tall and proud in his new suit, he looked incredibly handsome. Teresa smiled softly, seeing the adoring look on the face of the younger version of her in that picture, and remembering how she’d felt then. She rose and left the study, closing the door behind her with a soft click, and wandered into the kitchen to make a sandwich for her lunch.

***

“Oh, man, I’m starving!” Nick walked up behind Teresa, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her back up against his chest. “And this room smells like heaven. That’s your sauce, isn’t it, Ressa? Please tell me that’s your sauce.”

Teresa laughed softly at the pleading little boy sound in Nick’s voice. “Oh, yeah, bigman?” she asked him, snuggling close even while she teased him. “And what if I tell you it’s from a jar?”

Nick growled, though Teresa could feel his mouth curving into a smile as it was pressed against her neck, “I guess I’ll just have to take you over my knee and teach you about cooking.”

“Oh?” Teresa demanded, her voice growing husky as Nick’s hands roved from her waist up to cup one breast through her clothes. “And just how do you figure to teach about cooking over your knee?”

“That’s easy,” Nick said with a grin, turning her so he could grasp her bottom and pull her close to him. “I’ll spank you until you agree to always cook what I like to eat.”

Teresa answered his grin with one of her own, and reached up to nip his ear with her teeth. “And don’t I always do that?” she asked in an imitation of his Irish brogue that always made him laugh. And this time was no exception. Laughing, Nick turned the fire very low, letting the sauce simmer for a while as he lifted his wife into his arms and carried her upstairs.

“Jar sauce, was it?” he growled at her, blue eyes dancing with the sheer joy of being with the woman he loved body and soul. “Not in my house, woman!” he declared arrogantly as he set her back on her feet and closed the bedroom door.

“Well, now,” Teresa tossed back at him, her dark brown eyes shining with deep love for her husband. “You may well be king of your castle, Nicholas Flaherty. But I imagine I’m the queen of the kitchen.” Again, her perfect imitation of his accent had Nick throwing back his head in laughter. “So I’ll make what I like, when I like!” And, hiding her grin, she swung her hips broadly as she sauntered past Nick, deeper into the bedroom.

Teresa’s back was to Nick now, so she didn’t see him move. But move he did, as he spun quickly and without warning lifted Teresa into the air and tossed her the short distance to the bed making her squeal in surprise. By now, they were both laughing at their game. Nick leaned over her, gently nipping her shoulder. “Queen of the kitchen, is it?” he mock-growled at her. “Why, you’re just a kitchen wench, slavin’ to make your lord and master happy with your services! And it looks like I’ll have to be remindin’ you of your place, wench!”

Quick as a flash, Nick lifted Teresa up and gently deposited her over his lap. She always marveled at how so big a man could be so careful and gentle with her. True, he was that way when he spanked her for punishment, too. But Teresa never really was able to appreciate it at those times the way she did when they were playing. “We’ll be seeing if you’ll make jar sauce in my house, wench,” he scolded, a grin spreading across his face as he began swatting Teresa’s bottom.

“I’ll cook what I like in my own kitchen,” Teresa bravely announced, although Nick had to listen hard to hear through her giggles.

“Oh, is that how ‘tis, then?” And he lifted her dress, and yanked her panties down abruptly. “Well, now, we’ll see about that!”

“Why sir!” Teresa gasped in feigned horror. “You can’t undress me! In broad daylight?!! Oh, the shame!” Again, her giggles nearly drowned out her words.

“You’ll be forgettin the shame of it in a minute, wench,” Nick’s grin widened. “As soon as my hand gets to work!”

And that hand did go to work. Soft, gentle pats to Teresa’s bottom, with an occasional sharp swat thrown in to startle her and make her jump. They laughed and teased each other steadily as Nick continued spanking her, slowly and deftly heating Teresa up in more than just her bottom. When she started to jump a little even with the softer smacks, and when her yelps became husky and interspersed with soft low moans, Nick began lightly stroking her inner thighs with his fingers.

“Ahh, now, wench,” Nick whispered, his own voice throaty with love and lust for his wife. “So you’ll be making what I like in that kitchen of yours?”

Teresa’s eyes were closed as she strained her body up for the touch of Nick’s hand. “Well, now that depends,” she whispered softly back to him. “What will you give me as incentive?”

Nick grinned, eyeing her reddened bottom over his lap. “I just gave you incentive, wench!” and he smacked her a dozen times more, making her yell even as she reached for each smack. “But I’ve something more that may convince you.” And just as quickly as he’d lain her over his knees, Nick had her gently on her back on the bed as he hovered over her.

More than ready for him, primed by the pleasure/pain of the spanking he’d given her, and always ready for him in her love for him, Teresa smiled into his eyes as Nick quickly stripped. “Ahh, my love,” she whispered to him in Italian, “you bring such laughter and joy to my heart.”

Nick stared deep into her eyes, blue to brown, and lifted her with his hands on her bottom, squeezing to heighten the feeling for her a bit. “I love you, my ‘Ressa,” he whispered as he slid into her. “I love you with all that I’ll ever be, my angel girl.”

And laughter gave way to loving, as they held and caressed each other. And that night, Teresa served her homemade manicotti with her homemade sauce. And if Teresa and Nick spent time savoring every bit of that sauce … and if they lingered over each bite … and if they spent a lot of time at the table just smiling into each other’s eyes, the love in their hearts there to see … well, the children never commented. But then, they were used to it.

***

Teresa finished her sandwich, rising to wash her dishes. “I haven’t made manicotti in years,” she murmured to herself. “Maybe I’ll have the children over and make some this weekend. Then I’ll get started on your ‘suggestions’, Nick.” She smiled softly as she left the kitchen, still feeling the memories that years of love, laughter and spankings had left behind.

[redzonedefense_F]

Absolutely great!

There is more, yes??