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« Charlotte, Amelia, Imogen and Takisha

 

8. Dinner without Stress

Spanking Story

 
 

A young wife is strapped for her snappish attitude before dinner with her parents

 
   
«Beginning Part 9»

David smoothed Charlotte's olive shift dress over the back of her shoulders and tugged the recalcitrant zip.

"Leave it," she cried, pulling away from him, afraid he might tear the zip from her dress.

Looking out the bedroom window, she twisted behind her neck and drew the zip home. Liberated, it was now easy.

"It only needed a tug to loosen it," he said.

Grunting, she turned to check her dress in the dressing-table mirror. Skimming her legs with its embroidered hem, the tailored dress was respectable, yet sexy, for dinner with her parents. She'd gone with white lace underwear. Subtle and suitable underwear was the correct etiquette, even if nobody saw it.

He slipped on his gray suit jacket. When he'd been making lunch, she'd snapped at him about lettuce and cucumber on the floor. He'd been going to clean up the remnants of the salad as soon as he'd finished making it. All day, she'd been on edge.

Stepping into her heels, Charlotte grabbed her olive clutch bag from the bed and gave him the once over. His olive tie matched her dress. She'd laid it out for him before going in the shower. Against his white shirt, it looked good. The dinner with her parents must be perfect. It had been on her mind all day. They'd been traveling, so she hadn't seen them in months. This morning she'd dismissed the white dress she'd had in mind, in favor of the olive one. It was more in taste with the decor of the restaurant. She'd tested it against pictures on their website.

In the hall, she glanced in the wall mirror as she passed and headed to the front door. Right behind her, David touched her back, "Wait a moment."

She paused and turned to face him. His resolute gaze held hers.

"I'm disappointed in your attitude," he said. "When we were getting dressed, I helped with your zip at your request and you were snappish, not for the first time today. At lunch time you bit my head off over the salad mess on the floor. Is this the version of you which you'd like your parents to see tonight?"

Humbled by his hard tone, she lowered her eyes to the wooden floor. "I'm sorry. I've been tense about tonight. It's silly." Tonight wasn't her only stress. She'd spent hours on the phone over recent weeks working on a project so secret she hadn't breathed a word of it, even to him. It wasn't the giving back she'd planned, but it still felt like the right thing to do. The secrecy, at first essential, had eaten away at her. She didn't keep things from David. But the project had moved fast and as time had elapsed, bringing him up to speed had got harder.

"In fifteen minutes we'll be sitting down for dinner with your parents. For you, dinner will be uncomfortable. I'm going to tan your hide with the discipline strap. You need it."

"I'm sorry," she said.

He was right. She hadn't been able to snap out of her mood. Strokes from the stiff strap were what she needed and deserved. Sore bottomed, her mood would be flawless.

"Go into the lounge," he said.

Following her in, he took the light brown leather strap from on top of the bookcase. Twelve inches long, with the thin leather folded back on itself and sewn to form a handle, the business end wrapped over with a split to deliver double the sting.

He pointed to the arm of the couch. "Lift your dress."

Shamed by her need, she pulled the olive jersey to her waist. The submissive action made her contrite. "I'm sorry, David."

"Bend over."

She obeyed. Bending over the arm of the couch, she presented her bottom almost bare in delicate white Brazilian lace panties.

"You need this, Charlotte," he said.

She did. There wasn't a good reason for her silly stress. It was just how she got sometimes. Relaxing her cheeks, she said, "I'm sorry for my attitude."

The first fiery sting was enough to alert her to her behavior, but not enough to cause undue pain. The sharp sensation provoked her sex to send gentle waves of warmth around her body. She settled into the arm of the couch as the strokes built. The heat in her bottom hurt as the leather landed on already sensitive skin. As the blows came hard and fast, she held herself still. Hot sting flashed across her bare behind. It was a subtle punishment. At first kind and warm, the bed of warmth made the latter strokes sting like fury.

He held the firm strap still against her warm cheeks. "Ten hard ones. Count them."

Her sex kicked up a gear as her mind relished her forced obedience. Fierce burn erupted as the leather slapped hard against her bare right cheek. She steadied her breathing and called, "One, thank you." As the same fire burst across her left cheek, she called, "Two, thank you." The strokes landed on top of each other, piling on the pain. She accepted each burst of burn with respect and thanked him out loud. As the last stroke stung fury into her left cheek, she called, "Ten, thank you."

"Stand when you're ready," he said, putting away the strap.

She stood as he returned, pulling her dress down. Reaching up, she stroked the side of his face. "I'm sorry. I deserved that, and I needed it. Thank you for strapping me."


As they walked the short distance to the restaurant, she marveled at what a few minutes with the discipline strap had done to her mood. She was angst free, calm and proud of herself. Her makeup had remained flawless. She'd checked in the mirror on the way out the door. The only sign he'd strapped her was a warm flush to her face and a bright sparkle in her eyes.

She leaned in as he put his arm around her waist. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked.

"Only as much as it should," she said. "What would have hurt much more, was if you hadn't done it."


Mother and daughter time had been in short supply, so they were in conversation as soon as they met in the restaurant lobby. She winced as her strapped bottom landed a little too hard on the seat.

"Are you okay?" her mum asked.

"I think I strained a muscle on the treadmill," she said.

"Make sure David looks after you tonight. Maybe a hot bath."

She would make sure he took care of her tonight, but it wasn't a bath she had in mind.

Her parents regaled them with tales of their travels through eastern Europe during the meal. Her bottom, sore for the first hour, had settled to a gentle heat by dessert. Caught up in the conversation, she'd forgotten about her punished status. When she remembered, she leaned into David, rubbing her shoulder against his powerful arm.

"You two seem as close as always," her father said, watching her.

David answered for them both. "We're in a good place."

The certainty of his words wrapped around her heart. She felt safe, loved and looked after. Sat in a thin dress next to her muscular man, strapped and sore, she couldn't imagine a better place.

A tall, dark man crossing the restaurant caught her eye. Fit, in a black suit with short dark hair and golden Mediterranean skin, he was indeed handsome. Smiling, which always made a man attractive, he was headed straight towards her.

At the last moment, he veered towards David. "David, long time, no see."

"Nick." David stood and pumped his hand. It had been three years since they'd worked together on the trading desk of the bank where he'd cut his teeth in the commodities market.

"Everyone, this is an old colleague of mine, Nick."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Nick apologized, "but I've not seen David in years."

Charlotte smiled at the attractive man. Her father dismissed the polite apology, "No trouble Nick, it's nice to meet you."

David excused himself and took Nick over to the bar.

"How are you?" David asked, as the barman made them each an espresso.

"Not bad. I have a penthouse by the river, a Ferrari, a BMW M5, seven-figure bonuses, but no girl."

"What happened to Imogen? She was sweet."

"We didn't last. After my wife, I wasn't in the best place to date her."

David nodded. Nick's ex-wife had damaged him, They'd married young. She'd been flakey and had slept with someone else while he worked long hours.

"Any fresh action?" he asked.

"I was leaving when I saw you. A girl I quite liked has stood me up. It's infuriating because I thought she would be reliable. We'd chatted a few times."

"Did you meet on an app?"

"Yeah," Nick groaned. "How else?"

David looked at Nick, afresh. He was clean cut, wealthy and a good catch for a decent girl. One girl had mistreated him with devastating consequences for his confidence, but the right girl would blast that into the past in a blink.

"I know someone," he said, "but are you ready? You can't mess this up. I wouldn't do that to her."

"I just want to meet a girl who's good looking and half decent. It's not much to ask."

Nick's voice had underlined the truth of his words, so David acted. "She's one of Charlotte's friends. She's single, honorable, and a blonde knockout. Interested?"

"Hell, yes."

David slid off his stool and returned to the table.

"Sorry to interrupt. Charlotte, could I have Amelia's number to give Nick?"

"Mmm. Is he nice?" She'd seen Nick. He was hot. Amelia could do a lot worse, indeed she had. But a girl should never seem too keen.

"He's a good guy and very well off," David said, playing her game and upping the stakes.

Conceding with far too much ease, she shared Amelia's contact info from her phone.

"Thanks," David said. "I'll tell him to call."

Charlotte excused herself with her parents and went to the restroom. Pausing in the corridor, she sent Amelia a quick heads up.


It had been a lovely evening, her man close to her, her parents back and a bonus for her friend. Charlotte climbed under the comforter, her lace replaced with cotton for bed.

David joined her. He wrapped her in his arms and she snuggled into him. "I enjoyed having to sit there strapped by you. My bottom taught me an excellent lesson. You're a dangerous man to love and, I love you."

His hardness grew and pressed against her. "I had to strap your attitude out of you," he growled.

"I so deserved it." Awash with heat, her sex clenched hard, begging for him. She shoved off her panties, kneeled up, pushed the covers away and grabbed the wooden bed frame behind the pillows. "Teach me another lesson, just as hard."

Warm hands gripped her hips as his hardness plunged into her soaking sex. His firm stomach awoke her sore bottom with every thrust. She seized his manhood as he drove his pleasure deep inside her, carrying her onto the precipice she deserved.

"You strapped me and made me sit in my thin dress in public."

"You deserved a dose of humility."

"I so did," she panted, grazing her nipples fast, delivering delicious torture as he thrust into her.

"You're a good girl," he growled, driving his need. She pressed back, forcing him deeper. He held her dead-still, making her relax. Again, he brought her to her peak and made her wait.

She begged, "Don't stop."

But he did.

"Stay still," he rasped.

Three times he brought her to a perilous state and made her wait. No matter how desperate she was, and she'd reached a critical state, she wouldn't disobey him.

Coming with a loud groan, he thrust her through her peak. She exploded back over his manhood, shuddered and collapsed onto the bed, a rush of orgasms surging through her sex.

She slid into his arms, her soft cotton panties cushioning her pummeled sex, and whispered, "You did a kind thing tonight for Amelia."

"And Nick," he said.

She grinned. "If he plays it right, he's a lucky man."


Until he'd met David last night, Nick hadn't thought of Imogen in some time. She was the one he'd let down. She'd been ready to trust him with her deepest, most intimate feelings, but he hadn't returned her trust. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. If a girl inspired him, she could blow right through his fears.

He paced his penthouse, looking out over the trees and distant buildings on the other side of the river. Turning at the end of his long wall of darkened glass, he caught himself. Yes, a girl must inspire him, but it was his responsibility to trust her without conditions. He'd promised David he was ready. This wasn't some girl he'd met in a bar. David had called her honorable. It was a rare choice of word. He wanted honorable. And he wanted a blonde knockout.

Out loud, he said, "Amelia," testing her name in the open-plan space. He'd never met an Amelia. Her name was beautiful. He pictured David's wife. Her rich eyes had invited him across the restaurant. If Amelia was a friend of hers, it was a good bet she'd be as stunning as David had promised.

Grabbing his phone from the couch, he scrolled his contacts to the newest entry. Her sensuous name on his lips, he hovered his finger over the rich letters of her name.