Rachel glanced again at the clock. Where was he? She’d expected Bertie to be home almost an hour ago. She acknowledged that it could be traffic keeping her boyfriend out of her arms, but for this long? No, something was up, and Rachel had to consider, not for the first time, if she should be considering another form of behaviour modification.
Bertie’s spanking fetish had been introduced early in their relationship – when they’d first hooked up, he’d been so red-faced about bringing up his kink that he’d nearly thrown up trying to spit out the word. It had taken some time for her to warm to that side of him, and almost as long for the younger Bertie to step up to playing a dominant role over his older girlfriend – and then Bertie had dropped a bombshell a few months ago that upended that dynamic. He’d been secretly fantasizing about being put over Rachel’s knee for the kind of treatment he’d been giving her!
When she’d found out, she’d been lost for what to do next. He hadn’t learned of her discovery immediately, so her first thought was to be silent and hope that Bertie would discard his prurient dream, dismiss it as unrealistic and move on. But the fantasy remained, she saw it behind his eyes every time he slapped her jiggling cheeks and saw her enjoying the sensation. If she could be turned on like that, why shouldn’t he? Besides, she was also curious about what it would be like to be on the giving end. To have Bertie’s fuzzy little butt at her mercy… so they’d given it a shot, and never looked back.
The idea was that their dynamic would change very little. Despite being his senior, Rachel was often assumed to be years younger than Bertie, a perception fed by her tiny size and youthful attitude. She was passionate and playful, but also temperamental and a bit self-centered – at her best, the traits of a gifted musician, at her worst, those of – and she could admit this – a childish brat. And because she’d accepted that, then it didn’t feel so out of place for her to be hauled over Bertie’s lap for some bare-bottom attention.
Sometimes she’d even played up the brat role when she really wanted to feel that she had it coming. But Bertie was the one who’d taken the role of responsible adult, even before they’d started dating. He was the serious one, the one with a steady job life insurance. He’d even spent months paying the bills for both of them when she’d quit her factory job so that she could deejay full-time. So given that, how often was she likely to find herself on top?
More times than she would have thought. She loved Bertie deeply, but she also knew the secrets that he kept even from himself, and one of those was that he wasn’t comfortable being a grown-up. His former yuppie parents had raised him with high expectations, and his veneer of adulthood was a well-practiced act largely for their benefit. When his guise slipped, when he let his guard down, Bertie could still be a scared kid seeking approval. And Rachel, no great authority on maturity herself, could live with that – if that youthful vulnerability didn’t come packaged with a number of bad habits.
She’d already spanked him twice this week – two days in a row, actually. He’d come back from working the breakfast rush at work a half-hour late with a thick plastic bag in hand. When she’d asked what he’d bought, he got defensive. He’d stopped by the comic shop on the way home, he admitted, and bought a couple of extra titles. Comics he wouldn’t normally have picked up. Not a big deal. But he’d also timed the trip so that she wouldn’t be able to go with him, and Rachel wasn’t fooled as to why – her presence would have made him self-conscious about spending his money.
He’d protested at first, but he relented once she’d stripped off his pants and prostrated him over her knee. She’d spanked him silly, listening to his little oohs and ouches, then they’d made love right there on the living room floor. He’d been downright apologetic the next day, even bringing home flowers. She’d spanked him again anyway – after all, he had been late coming home again. She’d been far gentler the second time, and he had reciprocated once they’d moved on to the bedroom.
She checked the clock again, then her phone. He was really going to get it this time. Could it be that he was setting up these situations just for the sex? Well, if that was the case, he was in for a surprise. It was his own fault for bringing up his kink. Be careful what you wish for, Bertie, I may just like it more than you do.
She brought up her phone again. Two hours since Bertie’s shift had ended. If he’d gotten caught up in traffic… no, she was done making excuses for that man. If he wanted to spend another night with a reddened backside, he’d certainly gone about it in the right way. Maybe the time had finally come to use that paddle she’d bought for his birthday.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and noticed that, despite the shower she’d taken earlier in the day, she’d neglected to change out of the sweatpants she’d slept in. That would never do, she decided – she liked the feel of her bare legs against Bertie’s flesh while she was taking him to task. As she was stripping out of her pants, she heard a key scraping the lock.
Bertie walked in, still in his suit, looking downcast.
“And just where have you been, young man?”
The authoritative tone usually had Bertie wincing, drawing into himself – maybe even squeezing out a little whine. But he said nothing. She drew herself to her full but diminutive height and stormed up to him in nothing but her panties and T-shirt.
“I asked you a question, Bertie. This is the third time this week you’ve been late—“
“I had an appointment at the bank. It was on the calendar.”
Caught off guard, she glanced at the calendar the couple kept on their refrigerator door and found Bertie to be exactly right. There was no time indicated on the appointment, but that wasn’t going to be enough to confront him with – there was only an hour’s difference between Bertie’s finishing work and the bank’s closing.
“I see,” she seethed as he put down his coat. She didn’t want to make this easy for him. “Well, that’s good for you. Someone was about to get a good-“
He cut her off in mid-scold. “Rachel, do you remember paying for our home insurance this month? Or last?”
It drew a blank. She and Bertie split their expenses, with their renter’s insurance being a cost that fell on her. But it was provided through Bertie’s bank – and if they hadn’t been paid, they would assume he was the one in default.
He read the shocked look on her face. “I spent twenty minutes trying to convince them that I’d just lapsed on payment, that I hadn’t canceled my policy.”
“I’m sorry…”
“We’re back in their good books, but I’ve set up a recurring payment now, it’ll come out of my account every month. And we won’t miss anything more.” He sighed and unclipped his tie – he’d finally given up knotting his oxfords every day. He set the tie back in a closet drawer and paused.
“What were you going to say, sweetie?”
She blushed, a heat that rose up her neck and set a flare to her freckles. “It’s nothing.”
“’Someone’ was going to get something? A good something? Let me guess - it was a chicken meatloaf?”
“No…”
“No, you’re right, chicken meatloaf is awful. A good piece of advice, then.”
He walked up to her slowly, his cheery demeanour suddenly chilling, freezing her in place. A couple of days ago in this same space she’d been the voice of authority and he a very big bad boy. Now, he was just very big, and she was feeling very self-conscious about standing in his wake in only her underwear.
“I don’t think that was it,” she managed to squeak out. Her eyes darted from side to side. She might be able to make it to the bathroom before he got within reach…
His hand snaked around her waist, and she was caught.
