All the Days of Our Lives
She sleeps like a rock, this woman I love. Especially after a spanking, and more so after a really hard spanking. I spanked her last night, harder than ever. Christ! She cried her heart out. So did I, but I didn't tell her that.
I'm an old fashioned guy and I don't have any quarrels about sound spankings. She deserves those from time to time and I give her light spankings regularly. You know the kind... where we both enjoy the touching and the kissing and the sweet loving that follows. It's good then and it's even hotter after a sound spanking. But that spanking last night... well, it was necessary.
He watched her sleep, knew she was sore from that spanking... extra sore... and he wondered how she'd react after a night's restless sleep. He had spanked her with his hand... harder than he had ever spanked her, not stopping until her butt was cherry red, pausing only long enough to pick up her hairbrush... bruising the dark rose flesh, leaving purple blotches on skin that was normally ivory hued or barely pink. Sleep had eluded him as well; he had dozed in snatches, the heat of her bottom cheeks flush against his belly... searing him.
Her breathing had been stuttered in the night... small gulps of air inhaled as gasps... soft whimpers that tore into him far more than if she had simply sobbed. And her hands... they made his heart ache the way she clutched them to her chest... in a defensive pose... as close to fetal as she could get while his arms held her to his chest. When did she get so small? She always seemed so much smaller after he spanked her hard, making him feel like he had struck a child, making him feel like the biggest monster on the planet.
Each time he touched her, he was amazed at how soft she was, the silk and satin of her skin a texture of sensuality and now... Mother of God! He just wanted her to wrap her arms around him and need him, beg him to love her, to make her whole again. He wanted to put the bruising spanking behind them. He wanted to make it bind her even stronger to him; he wanted... Sighing heavily, he acknowledged that his need to hold her after delivering a hard spanking seemed to be greater than her need to be held.
"Good morning, sleepy head," he murmured when she woke. Brushing her hair off her face, the back of his hand slowly... tenderly... stroked her cheek. His other hand held her close to his chest... two heartbeats echoing the other while his mouth nuzzled her neck and throat.
"I love you," he said softly, two fingers tilting her chin up so she'd look at him. His heart swelled with pain... ebbing into dull ache... that hollow feeling draining him as he looked into her eyes... eyes that were still reddened from crying, fresh tears filling them and spilling over.
"I love you, baby."
"You don't love me," she murmured, her tone matching her eyes... sad... filled with regret... regret that hurt from the inside out. The sheen of her tears made her eyes look larger, rounder... the look of a child when it first encounters betrayal.
"I *do* love you."
"If you loved me the way you say you do," her voice low, words faltering, tears spilling, "you wouldn't have spanked me so hard. And..." she sobbed softly, shifting her gaze, "and then blistered my bottom with a hairbrush."
"Yes I would have," he assured her as he pulled her closer, one hand entwined in her hair. "It's because I love you that I did what I did, that I spanked you hard so you won't ever forget to take your meds again. I want you to live, not die because you..."
"I hate you," she said, her voice calm despite the tears. "I hate you for doing that to me."
"I know, baby. I know," he murmured, kissing her brow. "How much do you love me?
"Don't love you."
"Yes, you do. How much do you love me?"
"Hate you," she mumbled into his chest knowing full well that it was futile to try to push him away.
"You'll get over that," he replied, confident that she would and tilted her head up again so he could kiss her. "How much do you love me?" he asked once more as his lips softly brushed hers.
"Don't love you."
"Yes, you do," he breathed into her mouth. "Tell me."
"You don't deserve my love," her voice muted as she looked at him, tears spilling down her cheeks, her lower lip trembling.
Her comment surprised him and gave him pause as he looked at her, her voice soft, her gaze determined despite the tears that flowed over his hand. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I had to spank you that hard, but it had to be done. If you don't take your meds on a regular schedule, you'll go into a diabetic coma. You could die. I don't want you to die," he whispered, each word a short sharp stab of pain in his chest. "I couldn't bear it," he rasped before regaining control of his emotions. "Don't put yourself in that kind of jeopardy again, not *ever* again. Do you understand?"
"You didn't think your hand was hard enough?" she accused softly, the few uttered words depleting her energy. "You... you felt a need to beat me so hard I had trouble standing? You..."
"I used a hairbrush," he said calmly. "I didn't beat you. I'll do it again if I have to," he felt compelled to add.
"I hate you!"
"I know, but I love you and if this spanking made the impression I think it made, you'll never forget your meds again."
"You will *never* use a hairbrush on me again!"
"I hope not, but I want you to know I will if I have to."
"I'll leave you," she threatened trying to push away from his embrace.
"I'll hunt you down," he murmured, cupping her face and kissing her. "I'll find you and bring you back to me," he promised, pulling her back to his chest, holding her close. "You belong to me."
"I want your promise you'll never use a hairbrush again," her tone firm despite her trembling lip... despite the slight shudder in her breath, despite the pain in her bottom... despite the ache deep inside her.
"Can't make that promise, little one," his own tone soft... serious... as he gazed at the woman he loved, waiting for her next words.
The silence that followed was deafening as they looked at each other, the battle continuing without words, without concession on either side, she with her lips compressed, her tears slowing but still spilling; he with a heavy heart.
"I love you," he reminded her. "More than life," he vowed, cradling her, willing her to understand.
She remained quiet for the remainder of the day, letting him pamper her, baby her, and cuddle her. He spoke softly, telling her how much he loved her, how he was looking forward to their wedding day, how he would take care of her all their days. She didn't reply to his words, letting him talk, do what he wanted, so wrapped around the hurt and pain he had inflicted. He knew she was hurting, her bottom cheeks so sore she couldn't get comfortable in his lap. He was barely able to keep his own tears in check when he gently applied a healing lotion to her bruised flesh, the purple blotches on her bottom more pronounced now.
The next morning he kissed her awake, handing her the meds she needed, confident the spanking had made the appropriate impression, confident she wouldn't forget to take them again. She took the tablets, swallowed them, and turned away from him.
"Good girl," he whispered, kissing her palm and her wrist and then held her for several long moments before leaving for work, certain that they were putting the incident behind them and moving forward.
That evening when he returned home, she was nowhere in sight. The sparkle of the diamond in the engagement ring he had given her caught his eye. The ring lay on the kitchen table... next to the hairbrush he had used to spank her... the hairbrush that had bruised her flesh...
She was gone.
Biting her lip to get past the pain, she got out of bed with great effort. When she finally stood, her mind registered the ache in her bottom cheeks, the kind of soreness that hangs heavy like something large and cumbersome was attached to her skin... every turn and move of her body sending a sear of heat... a constant reminder. She remained standing for a while, adjusting to the pain, wrapping herself in it... concentrating on it as if it were the core of her existence. She wanted it to be the core... the central reason for what was to follow. If she ignored the pain in her bottom... eventually, she'd ignore the pain in her heart, and then it would be too late.
When she could manage to take a few steps... each one drawing the ache from her foot to her buttocks... pain crawling up her spine... sharp... piercing... she stood in the center of the bedroom... rock sure and crystal clear as to what she had to do. First, she would shower and dress; then she would do the rest.
The hot water scalded her back, the fire in her backside soothed and then irritated by the shower's spray. She took it in, absorbed it, and made it hers to fuel her resolve. She was going to leave him. He had spanked her for the last time.
I love you, she told him in the recesses of her mind, but I will not live like this.
Slowly and methodically she went through the house, packing her clothing, her toiletries, a stuffed manatee, a few books and CDs. She took a change of linens, one pillow, two blankets, a few towels and from the kitchen, two coffee mugs, one pot, a frying pan, and little else. She left behind all the things they had purchased together and all the gifts he had given her - earrings, lingerie, perfume, the books and CDs. It never occurred to her to take back any of the gifts she had given him.
She didn't look back as she drove away, the pain in her bottom cheeks a constant reminder of why she was leaving him. Her first stop was the bank where they had joint accounts. She withdrew the exact amount of money she had put into both accounts, leaving the rest. She didn't want to be accused of taking anything from him.
By the time he came home, she would be several hundred miles away.
She leased a cabin in the Rockies, not too far from Estes Park in a cluster of cabins. It was chilly even in late April, patches of snow here and there, but the roads were clear and she had stocked up on enough groceries to last a while. There was a log burning fireplace and enough wood to last several months. The paper plates she bought would be added to the evening fire which would cut her trips to the waste dumpster a mile or so away. The real estate agent said the cabin came with an old striped alley tomcat that liked a lap to nap on and did she mind? She thought he'd be good company and fed the animal before she unpacked her few belongings. The friendly feline wove in and around and between her legs mewling, bidding her to sit so it would have a lap to nap on. It wasn't long before they both sat in front of the blazing fire.
The days passed slowly for her, the ache in her heart heavy with grief and the wrong she thought he had done to her. She missed him, mourning the separation, more so when she listened to the messages he left on her cell phone. Each time she heard his voice, she cried for the loss of him in her life.
There is peace in the midst of mountains... mostly a quiet peace. If one stops long enough to listen, the body tunes in... hearing the peaks' ghostly past. The mountains hum... a low keening hum, sometimes a rumble when snow avalanches off in the distance. Time had smoothed the rock of the stone faces... wind and weather caused the cragged juts of its peaks... ice caught in granite slabs. A few peaks were knife-like... above her like the teetering and fierce sword of Damocles. Their majesty eased her soul and made her unsettled... all in the same moment. She placed her cheek against the stone face... listening. The mountains hummed to her... over and over... until she let her body match its rhythm... humming back... at ease... until thoughts of him suddenly filled her... memories lingering.
They had met in a joggers' park. She had been running at full speed, watching her feet instead of what lay ahead and crashed into his chest. The collision had knocked the wind out of her; his arms had caught her and held her so she wouldn't fall. The wall of his body blocked every effort her lungs took to inhale oxygen and she lost consciousness for a few seconds. She remembered waking to the gentleness of a large hand cupping the curve of her cheek, fingers tracing the line of her jaw, a low rumbling voice asking her if she was hurt.
Her eyes filled as she re-lived every sweet act. The way he insisted she sit for a while until the dizziness passed... the way he kept a gentle hand on her back... that first smile. She remembered how he coaxed her to her feet, holding her arm as she regained her balance, coddling her until she insisted she was fine. Coffee led to a dinner date... they talked easy together, were attracted to each other, wanted... then needed... more of each other... and the rest was history.
Tears spilled when she recalled their first dinner together; he had threatened to warm her bottom if she didn't eat everything on her plate. Purposely, she left enough that he raised his brows at her. And much later, he *did* warm her bottom... light tingly spanks that left both of them breathless and yearning for more.
Later in their relationship, she had blushed each time he touched her when they were in a public place... holding her hand when she least expected it, squeezing it into the safety of his own. His arm around her shoulder in a movie theatre... the way he teased her when she covered her eyes at the scary parts... the kisses he stole... how he laughed when she spilled the popcorn... the way her thighs melted when he looked at her with a hungry smile.
She wept when she remembered the time she was ill with a nasty flu and the way he had pampered her and babied her - like someone who genuinely cared. The tears continued to spill when she recalled the way he broke down her defenses and let him love her. The sanctuary of his lap and his arms... always available when she needed to be touched... held. The way he would gentle her fears if she had a nightmare. The way he loved her awake in mornings... The way he spanked her when she wanted it... needed it... The way he...
I need your touch... Oh my love, I need you.
Day after day, he came home from work and sat at the kitchen table, fingering the engagement ring he had given her and the hairbrush he had used to bruise her flesh. Tears sprang to his eyes - remembering how they met, how they loved.
He had been jogging in the park when he spotted her the first time. He wanted to meet her and looked for her each time he ran. The day he noticed she wasn't looking where she was going, he purposely blocked her way, letting her crash into his chest. She was prettier than he realized and he turned on the charm, courted her and fell hook, line and sinker.
He made love to her several times before he introduced her to erotic spanking. She took to it like a duck to water and he counted his lucky stars that she wanted to be spanked as much as he wanted to spank her. She was shocked the first time he gave her a sound spanking for missing her meds but understood the reason and didn't protest too strongly. The spanking was effective; she took her meds regularly without being reminded. When she was once again careless about taking them, he had spanked her again, the spanking harder each time she failed to take them.
He loved mornings with her, especially weekend mornings when they could sleep in. He remembered the details... her details. The way her eyelashes brushed the top of her cheeks when her eyes closed in slumber... the way her hand fisted his shirt after she had been spanked. The way a curl of her hair would wrap around her earlobe... his fingers entwined in the silk of her tresses. The way her breasts would rise and fall with each breath when he loved her... the indentation of her navel and the sweetness of her thighs.
The way she blushed when he whispered... "I love waking up with my arms wrapped around you. I love easing your pajamas down and just g-r-o-w-i-n-g into you while you're half-asleep and melting." The way she blushed...
"She is my life," he mourned into his scotch. "I want her for my wife... she is my life."
Too many weeks passed - weeks of listening to his daily messages that ranged from please come home to abject apologies and how much he loved her - how much he needed her to make his life complete.
"Do you miss me as much as I miss you?" his voice filled with sorrow, the sound of his voice and his words filling her with the same sorrow.
"What can I do to make you want me again?"
She melted... called him and left a message. "I miss you but I won't live like that." Those were her only words, words she hoped would convey everything in her heart.
He called back; this time, she answered. He listened to her voice and her breath in his ear and his heart soared and plummeted in the same beat.
"I need you, baby. I love you. Please come home."
"No paddles," she said, her voice firm, her confidence strong.
"No paddles," he agreed.
"No belts," she added, her voice still firm, her confidence still strong.
"No belts," he murmured.
"No... no hairbrushes," she whispered, her words a bit hesitant, her confidence wavering, the memory of that bruising spanking still fresh... still raw.
"No hairbrushes; nothing like that ever again," the answer she wanted to hear. "I'll spank you!" he said with conviction, "if necessary, but no implements."
"My word on it," he swore, hoping this was the end of the separation, that his promise would bring her back to him.
"Forever and ever?" she continued, needing more words, needing the reassurance.
"Yes, I swear! Forever and ever."
"No corners!" she blurted out.
He paused a second too long... she hung up.
He called back but she didn't answer. His message was brief.
"No corners," he said quietly.
She didn't believe him.
"Baby, I love you! I need you!" his anguished whispers filling her ear.
She called him.
"No corners," he agreed.
"No going to bed like a child."
"Agreed," he promised.
"Love honor and cherish," she said softly.
"Love, honor and obey," he replied, unmoving on this point.
She hung up.
He was adamant about their marriage vows... stubborn and adamant and immovable. Her excuse to do as she pleases with no regard to her health or welfare, he deduced.
She was adamant about their marriage vows... stubborn and stoic, refusing to give in on this point. His excuse to "discipline" me whenever he feels like it, she fumed.
She fingered the phone, thinking... missing him, wondering if they'd ever reach a compromise, weighing her options. She missed him... terribly. He had promised not to use a hairbrush again... He had never lied to her; she had no reason to doubt him.
The days passed slowly; he didn't call again and she was lost without him. Her health deteriorated. She remembered to eat only because she fed the cat; she slept from exhaustion and finally, picked up the phone to call him when there was a knock at the cabin's door.
She gasped when she saw him standing there. His arms were spread wide and she didn't hesitate to jump into them. He enveloped her in a huge bear hug, his mouth seeking hers, drowning her with kisses.
"I missed you," he said simply as he closed the door behind them.
"You'll keep your promises?" she asked, unsure all over again.
"Yes, I'll keep my promises," he assured her. "You'll vow to love, honor and obey?"
"Yes," she whispered, the thought of life without him unbearable.
"I'm going to spank you good and hard for leaving my arms empty," he told her, hugging her tightly to his chest. "I'm going to spank you good and hard for ripping my heart to shreds, for..."
"Kiss me again!" she demanded.
"I'm going to kiss you all over," he murmured as he carried her to the bed in the corner of the cabin. "And I'll kiss your sweet butt after I turn it into a 5-alarm fire!"
Her protesting squeals filled the cabin when he put her over his lap. He was so happy to have her back in his arms that he delivered just a few stinging spanks - nothing as severe as she thought they would be.
"Gonna leave me again?" he asked.
"Swear to it!" he demanded.
"I swear," she promised.
"Because I'd rather live with you and be spanked than live without you."
"And because I love you!" she admitted as she melted into his arms.
"And I love you," he vowed. "And I'll love you and spank you and love you all the days of our lives."