"Hey, I'm home." He calls out. He starts walking towards the bedroom.
I don't answer because I'm in no mood to talk to anyone, let alone someone who'll know something's up just by the sound of my voice. Then I pull the covers over my head to hide and retreat to my cocoon of blankets. He's in the room, I hear him taking off his belt and it falls to the floor along with his pants. I lie still, trying to convince myself that maybe he won't know I'm lying there if I don't move. But who am I kidding, of course he knows.
He pulls the covers. My face is deep in a pillow and I don't look but I feel him looking at me. "Are you really sleeping or are you ignoring me?" He rhetorically asks. I move my face from the pillow to look at him.
The second he see my face, he know. "Oh babe, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing, it's just been a long day." I reply and bury my face back in my pillow.
"I know it's not nothing. Talk to me." He says.
Why won't he just leave me alone? In a moment of frustration, I yell "THERE IS NOTHING TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT."
As he picks up the belt from the floor he says "Well, I don't know what you're upset about but I will not tolerate you yelling at me because you're in a foul mood. Get out of bed and lay over the edge of the bed."
In defiance, I don't move. He's the one that pushed my buttons, why does he get to spank me over it. I'm not getting up, I don't want this spanking.
"Young lady, you have until the count of three to do as I say before it gets infinitely worse." He says in a serious voice. "One... Two..."
I stand up. I give him the I-hate-you-right-now look and I bend over on the side of the bed. "You're treating me like a child." I mumble.
"I'll stop treating you like a child, when you stop acting like a child. You could have just talked to me, but you didn't." He replies softly and pulls down my pants and panties.
I know I was wrong to yell. Now on top of feeling overwhelmed, I feel sorry for yelling and taking it out on him. That was wrong of me to do. As I'm feeling sorry for myself, *CRACK* the belt land right across my full bottom. 13 more strokes without a warm-up, my bottom is on fire. The 15th stroke hits my sit spot and I unleash the tears that I didn't know were coming. 5 more strokes, I'm sobbing and he stops.
I can't bring myself to talk because I'm crying so hard. He pulls me onto the bed and holds me, whispering in my ear "Shhh, it's okay. Just cry it out." I don't want to look at him because after all that bratting, he's being so understanding. But he leans down, looks me in the eye, and kisses me on the forehead. Letting me know that he's there.
He pulls the covers. My face is deep in a pillow and I don't look but I feel him looking at me. "Are you really sleeping or are you ignoring me?" He rhetorically asks. I move my face from the pillow to look at him.
The second he see my face, he know. "Oh babe, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing, it's just been a long day." I reply and bury my face back in my pillow.
"I know it's not nothing. Talk to me." He says.
Why won't he just leave me alone? In a moment of frustration, I yell "THERE IS NOTHING TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT."
As he picks up the belt from the floor he says "Well, I don't know what you're upset about but I will not tolerate you yelling at me because you're in a foul mood. Get out of bed and lay over the edge of the bed."
In defiance, I don't move. He's the one that pushed my buttons, why does he get to spank me over it. I'm not getting up, I don't want this spanking.
"Young lady, you have until the count of three to do as I say before it gets infinitely worse." He says in a serious voice. "One... Two..."
I stand up. I give him the I-hate-you-right-now look and I bend over on the side of the bed. "You're treating me like a child." I mumble.
"I'll stop treating you like a child, when you stop acting like a child. You could have just talked to me, but you didn't." He replies softly and pulls down my pants and panties.
I know I was wrong to yell. Now on top of feeling overwhelmed, I feel sorry for yelling and taking it out on him. That was wrong of me to do. As I'm feeling sorry for myself, *CRACK* the belt land right across my full bottom. 13 more strokes without a warm-up, my bottom is on fire. The 15th stroke hits my sit spot and I unleash the tears that I didn't know were coming. 5 more strokes, I'm sobbing and he stops.
I can't bring myself to talk because I'm crying so hard. He pulls me onto the bed and holds me, whispering in my ear "Shhh, it's okay. Just cry it out." I don't want to look at him because after all that bratting, he's being so understanding. But he leans down, looks me in the eye, and kisses me on the forehead. Letting me know that he's there.
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