Play Time!
Part Four
by sarAdora
~~~~~~~

Taking Control

Cowboy said he'd be home Saturday so I pretty much relaxed Friday night, puttering around the house, enjoyed some Zinfandel and cheesecake for dinner... What? You don't eat those kinds of dinners? Tsk. You're just not living right. and thinking a good night's sleep was in order. The marine was relieved of duty once I was home again. Personally, I think he was just plain relieved he wouldn't have to face Cowboy until Cowboy faced me.

Was deep in dreamland when I felt a weight on the bed and then Cowboy's voice in my ear. "Hey babe," he whispered. "I'm home. Go back to sleep."

Go back to sleep? What the hell was he doing home so early? Could have sworn he said he was coming home Saturday. Doesn't that mean in the afternoon or evening? Apparently, the man keeps ZULU time - 'cause here it was, about 0200 hours and he was home. Okay, so technically, any hour after midnight is Saturday.... but I had planned on having Saturday morning to rehearse my speech. Sheesh!

Naturally, I fidgeted all night. The squid thought that was funny. He should have nailed me then. I was half asleep, too groggy to explain my adventures or protest and for sure, I would not have been able to run away and join the circus at that hour. Furthermore, I didn't even have a chance to summon Wonder Woman or Joan of Arc.

Saturday morning, I'm ready to hop out of bed when I feel an arm around my waist. "Mornin' baby," he says as if my world wasn't about to be turned upside down... literally.

"Morning," I mutter, trying to wiggle away.

"Missed you," he whispers, nuzzling my neck and pulling me closer.

"Mmmm, that's nice." I'm suddenly agreeable.

"Gonna show you how much and then we're gonna have a little talk."

Ummm... Wonder Woman? Here's your cue!

"Let go of me," I say in a huff.

"Not on your life," he says calmly and I hear him chuckle.

"Have to go to the bathroom," I insist and he lets me go, then realizes my intent. I hopped out of bed before he had a chance to grab me.

"Get back here, Sar," he said softly.

Yeah - sure - right - in this lifetime - whatever you say. Is he out of his mind? I high-tailed it to the guest bathroom and locked the damn door. Cowboy recently replaced the lock on that particular door and I knew he wouldn't willingly break it.

"Cruisin' for a bruisin', baby," I hear him say on the other side of the door. The wretch is still laughing. "Can't stay in there, forever," he reminds me.

No, but I can stay long enough to come to grips with my impending doom or the appearance of Joan of Arc and her trusty sword, whichever comes first. I wonder if Calamity Jane makes house calls and if "Need an Amazon? Inc." is listed in the yellow pages. Sighhhhhh.

"Can we start the morning over?" I ask.

"Yes."

"Go back to bed. I'll be right out," I announce, having every intention of escaping out the back door.

"Okay," he says agreeably which should have warned me.

I come out and am hoisted over a shoulder. Gotta change my tactics. I'm getting much too predictable.

"Cowboy...!"

"Didn't want to have to come and get you, Sar. Let's go back to square one and talk."

Well, that's all it took. I have a king-sized pout on my face and since I'm over his shoulder, I can't stomp my foot. I can, however, kick, which I did. Purely reflexive move, of course. He lands a heavy swat on my unprotected behind - I yell - the dogs come running.

"Kill!" I yell. "Bite! Eat!" The Rott yawns - Bully boy stands up and licks my face. Why did I ever let those beasts bond with him?

Back to square one.

Cowboy likes to keep me on his lap when we "talk." There's a good reason for this and we both know it. I'm an escape artist. Given a fraction of a chance to avoid a harsh spanking, I'm out of there like a hot surface-to-air missile. Any exit will do. If I can make it to the backyard, I can shimmy up a tree and be over the fence in a New York minute. So, he holds me on his lap with a firm arm around my waist.

"Let's get this over with, baby. I don't want it hanging over our heads all day."

"Our heads?" More like my butt!

"We can drag it out if you want," he murmurs, nibbling my neck. "I'd much rather make love to you, first, then I could spank you on and off all day."

"All day? What the hell did I do to deserve that?"

Did I ever mention there are times my mouth disconnects from my brain and just rattles on without any help from me? I swear! The words just popped out of my mouth like little green frogs and I heard them the same time he did.

"Sar..."

"Cowboy, what did I do that was so terrible?"

"Went to Orcas Island when I specifically..."

"We've been over this already," I complain. "We agreed I could go if someone was with me. The marine was with me." I fold my arms across my chest, which is normally a good stance for me except... when you're naked, it doesn't have quite the same effect.

"You're right," he says.

He's agreeing with me? What is wrong with this scenario? I stare at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Soooo, you're not spanking me for going to the San Juans."

"Didn't say that," he says, voice still calm but his hand is tightening around my waist as if he senses that my escape genes are flaring. I glare. He smiles. I purse my lips. He kisses them.

"You're not playing fair," I complain.

"SeALs don't play fair, imp. They accomplish the mission by whatever means it takes," and he kisses me again.

"Why are you going to spank me, Cowboy?" Butterflies are doing cartwheels in my belly and I'm not sure if it's the inevitable spanking or his kisses or both.

"Left your cell phone off," he says calmly as if he were reciting a mantra. "That's a big no-no. If I can't reach you, I don't know..."

"I know," I groan. "You don't have to tell me again."

"Apparently, I do," he says, biting my earlobe, one hand on my back which I'm sure is a prelude to turning me over his lap.

Wonder Woman! Where the hell are you?

"What else?" I'm in full pout, my hand pushing against his chest as if I was holding a cross in front of him, trying to ward off a vampire.

"You tell me," he says softly, looking directly into my eyes.

"Nothing I can think of," I answer without flinching, looking directly back. I've had a lot of practice at this.

"Nothing?" he questions.

"Uh-uh. Nope. Nada. Nothing."

"Sar...?"

"Cowboy...?"

"What about the marines?"

"What about them?"

"David said they were all hurling before you docked at Vancouver Island."

"Well, they must have all eaten the same thing... somewhere... somehow... I guess."

"Sar..."

"You know, David is starting to get on my nerves," I am beginning to whine.

"I know you won't lie to me, baby, but you have a habit of omitting a lot of details."

Moi?

"Now tell me the rest."

"Nothing to tell," I say in my most indignant voice.

Cowboy gives me a nice deep kiss and when he lets me up for air, I am face-down across his lap and his grizzly bear hand is covering my very pale butt. The spanks are hard and heavy and they hurt like hell. I would curse but frankly, I'm trying to breathe.

His hand comes down hard! "That's for not coming back to bed when I told you to."

Again... "That's for locking yourself in the bathroom a few minutes ago."

The smacks keep flying! "That's for staying on Vancouver Island when I told you to go home."

Again... "That's for doing something that made Lt. Wilson disobey my direct orders and allowed you to get on a ferry in the first place."

More... "That's for locking him in the bathroom on the ferry, making him ill and stealing his phone."

More... "That for all the junk food you probably ate and for giving the dogs beer."

"That's for scaring the hell out of three decent marines."

"And this..." his hand delivers a harsh volley... "... is for trying to avoid the inevitable. If you'd just fess up, we could get this out of the way and get on with our lives."

"And last... that's for making me worry about you for five goddamn days!"

He pulls me up and hugs me tight, one hand rubbing my tender butt, the other wiping my tears. So far, I haven't said anything but I'm breathing harshly and can't see through the tears.

"You sorry, imp?"

"No."

"Not about any of it?" he asks gently, still wiping tears.

"None of it."

"Not even sorry about worrying me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You worry about me 24/7, Cowboy. I love that you do, but I can't be sorry about it."

"You auditing a law course, baby?" he laughs. "That sounded convoluted to me."

This is not a time when I'm feeling talkative...

"Was the spanking worth it?" he finally asks as he rubs the sting away, his mouth teasing my ear, his hands moving south.

"Yes," I affirm.

"Do I get to see your sketches?" he asks softly.

"No."

"Later?"

"Maybe."

"You hungry for breakfast?"

"No."

"You're gonna eat, anyway," he assures me. "I'm going to go downstairs and make French toast."

"With powdered sugar and raspberry preserves?" My stomach growls in anticipation. I never turn food down.

"And maple syrup," he says.

I'm feeling better already.

"But first..."

~~~

A bad girl spanking brings out a lot of infantile behavior. I'm rarely sorry for what I did. Life is short - I grab every minute of it that I can - no apologies. Occasionally, I pay the price. Was it really worth it? Damn straight, it was. I'd do it again... and probably will.

I find myself crawling in and out of Cowboy's lap off and on for the rest of the day until we're both worn out from the comforting and our lives are back on keel again. I'm looking forward to Sunday.

Sunday morning, David, the bad penny, shows up.

"Hey SweetCheeks. How's your butt?" he says too sweetly, sirens going off inside my head. "Need a hug, baby?" He reaches for me. I dodge his hands. He catches me and hugs me while Cowboy looks on.

"I hope Cowboy warmed your butt for hurting my marines, little girl."

Is it me? Or is there something wrong with that question?

"I don't mind telling you I thought they were a bunch of wusses," I grin evilly. "I know eight-year old girls who are fiercer than your marines."

"And I don't mind telling you, brat, that they didn't lay a hand on you because I ordered them not to!" He's growling just like Cowboy growls. I think it's a course they have to pass to qualify as an officer - Growling 101.

"Thank you, David. That was very sweet of you." I smile and plant a juicy one on his cheek.

He is immediately suspicious. He should be. As soon as Cowboy leaves for work on Monday, I'm ordering man-sized lingerie for David to be sent to the base from a transvestite site. Can't decide between the red satin teddy and the lacy pink one. Oh hell, I'll have them send both.

I need a few things from the hardware store; David and Cowboy decide to accompany me. Taking a man to a hardware store is foolhardy at best. He'll probably buy one more cordless drill... just can't have too many of those. I picture Cowboy and David each holding one in both hands... at twenty paces... Sigh

David teases me incessantly as we walk around this humongous store, his hand around my shoulder, whispering, asking me if my butt hurts, if I can walk without wincing, if he should buy me a special pillow, and generally irritating the hell out of me. I make a mental note to add enema syringes to my care package to him as well as a subscription to several gay magazines...

"Stop it!" I finally yell at him, shoving him away.

"Sar..." Cowboy warns.

"What?" My patience has completely evaporated and I'm seething that Cowboy hasn't stopped David's harrassment.

"Behave!" he says sternly, looking at both of us.

David pinches my sore butt. I kick him in the shins.

"Sar..." Cowboy gives me "that look."

I give it back, hands on hips and tell them they can both go to hell and...

"Don't finish that sentence, imp," the big bully warns.

"And fuck yourself when you get there," I hiss under my breath and walk away from them - quickly... rapidly... okay, almost running.

Cowboy comes up behind me - not fair! His legs are longer than mine - and with an arm around my waist, pushes me toward the lumber department where there are stacks of lumber and you can hide between the stacks. One hard swat over my jeans and a warning that he's had enough.

"Otherwise..." he gives me the look again, "when we get home..."

"When we get home," I hiss, feeling put upon, "you can cook your own damn supper and sleep on the couch!"

~~~

Cowboy is expecting me to crawl into his lap and either apologize or if quiet, simply seek comfort from leaning against him. Instead, I'm so incensed, I head for my studio where there are projects that need my attention and in which I can lose myself. Ironically, the spanker needs to give comfort as much as the spankee needs to receive it.

An hour or so passes and he comes looking for me. I ignore him. He ignores my ignoring - picks me up and sits on the floor, holding me close. He doesn't say anything, just rubs my back while his chin rests on the top of my head. This is his way of saying he may have been too harsh and feels badly about it. It doesn't excuse what transpired, but it does mean that he understands why it happened. It's enough. We both know what happened. He still has to make dinner but he won't be sleeping on the couch.

So I paid the price and it was worth it. Planning to go south next time, down to Portland and over to the Columbia River Gorge. There's lots of waterfalls along the gorge and I think I should sketch every one of them before they dry up. I'll take the pups, a lot of chocolate and some very special brownies for a bodyguard that is sure to accompany me.

~ End ~

Return to Humorous Spanking Stories

Or, Return to Spanking Fiction - Main Menu.