By Keagen
She was curled in a ball on the bed, sobbing, one hand on her red, sore bottom. She didn’t know what happened. She had no idea what had come over her. How could she POSSIBLY have been that stupid?
She thought back to earlier tonight. She had gotten in his face, challenging him in every way, shape, and form, and very, very clearly spoken.
“No!”
Shock flashed across his face and then passed. Cold determination settled into place as he took in her exceptionally belligerent, challenging body language. Her glare dared him to move. . . . . . . and move he did. She cried harder as she thought about his actions to follow. She closed her eyes, and she could feel his hand on her shoulder, turning her in place as she struggled to keep facing him as his right hand connected solidly with her backside. She bit back a yelp as raw anger flashed through her eyes. She spun to face him, one hand on the intensely stinging spot. Her glare had only darkened, anger in every line of her body. Again, he silently pointed to the door. Since it had worked SO well the last time, she did it again. Pugnaciously, she shifted her weight to her right foot, put her hand on her cocked hip, and very loudly declared her dislike for said command. “NO!”
His action this time was not nearly as swift. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and calmed down. He then grabbed her left wrist, drug her over to her bed, and threw her over his left knee.
She cried harder at the memory that followed. Submission being the last thing on her mind, she threw a kicking, screaming, howling, rage-filled fit. It had done nothing to stop him. He merely pinned her legs, secured her right wrist to the middle of her back, and let her squirm. Her strength barely registered on his scale. The spanking started over her jeans, but quickly morphed into a bare-bottomed lesson she would ALWAYS remember.
Still curled in a tight ball on her bed, she reached out for her bear, the bear she’d had for years, and she cried into his soft, long fur. The lecture that was given during the spanking stuck out in her mind. How much he valued her submission. How disappointed he was. How he realize she’d had a rough day, but that was never a reason to fight him. How he would ensure the word “no” never crossed her mind again. How he hoped this was a lesson and reminder he would never have to teach again.
Her sobs were nowhere close to finished as he walked in the room, picked her up, and sat on the edge of the bed. Gently rocking her, he assured her that all was right in their world. Her sobs continued as she tried to tell him that she had no idea where the anger, the fear, the disobedience had come from. . . . . . . . . . where her inability to submit had come from. . . . . .
He hushed her as he continued to rock her. He wasn’t interested in hearing what had happened; it was her final joyful submission that mattered most to him. He looked down at the tiny creature in his arms, and he gave a soft smile. She was his, and he treasured her with everything in him.
As her sobs began to slow, he noticed the gentle shift in breathing that noted her slip into a peaceful sleep. He continued to gently rock her, and finally laid her, bare bottomed, in bed, and pulled the covers up over her body. After a tender kiss to the top of her head, he slipped out of the room and flipped off the lights..
From the hall, he turned back to look at her. The light from the shadows played over her body as she stirred and curled into a loose ball. She scooted backwards a bit, still asleep, and he smiled as he knew she was searching for his body. He turned to finally walk away, and he was awash with the glow and pleasure of being able to guide, lead, love, cherish, and protect his angel.