A Top's Entitlement by Lady Jodie
In the Beginning by Jay
The Accident by Randy Williams
Rob and Tim by Lou
What was is No Longer by Carol
October 2016 Challenge
Tea Room Challenge Topic
Write a Story, Drabble or Ficlette about the Picture below
Showing posts with label traffic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label traffic. Show all posts
Sunday, March 27, 2011
In the Beginning
Many thanks to Tarabeth whose March Tea Room Challenge gave me an opportunity to explore the difficult process by which one couple get themselves into a discipline partnership.
In the Beginning
by Jay
It just started out as a bit of fun, the odd game of slap and tickle, if you know what I mean. I’d made it as clear as I possibly could, without actually having to say the embarrassing words, that I really quite liked being pulled across Matt’s lap and having my bottom warmed. For his part, Matt felt no corresponding awkwardness about describing his own feelings. Not a bit of it! He could wax eloquent on the subject of my pretty little bum and how he liked to watch it pink up and glow a fiery red.
I would pretend to be outraged by his words. It wasn’t that difficult; I do a good impression of pouting and flouncing. But Matt wasn’t deceived. He knew how turned on I was by his description of my bubble butt writhing over his lap, of the handprints he laid on each cheek and the rosy flush he could impart to my nether regions. Well, I could hardly hide my response, could I? Matt has a nasty habit of embarking on his lyrical descriptions while I’m lying naked across his lap and sometimes my squirming and wriggling has very little to do with the blaze in my backside. So, as I say, Matt knew I wasn’t an unwilling participant in our little games.
Actually, it was always more than just a game. There had to be an excuse for a spanking, however flimsy. We both like the ‘who’s been a naughty boy?’ scenario and sometimes I’d mess about, do something stupid, simply to provoke the desired response. It’s not just the spanking, you see. I like everything that goes with it: the sense of shame, the humiliation of being bare arsed, the tense wait for the first stroke and, finally, the proffered apology and resultant forgiveness.
I’m afraid that makes it all sound much heavier than it actually was. I never really needed much in the way of spanking; the eroticism was all in my head. Initially I did feel a trifle uncomfortable about my attraction to such a shameful fetish but Matt says my feelings are quite normal, quite common even. He was so matter of fact about his own enjoyment of spanking, so articulate in the analysis of his own responses, that he helped me come to terms with my own needs and desires. For him, it was the appeal of having me at his mercy with my naked and trembling flesh positioned ready for his punishing hand. He was aroused by the visual and tactile stimulus which fed his need for dominance and control. In comparison, my own fascination with submission and punishment seemed positively tame.
I suppose we’re well matched, although the spanking only became a part of our bedroom fun and games after we’d been together for some time. As I say, it wasn’t something we’d ever talked about; somehow we just fell into the way of it. I’ve since said to Matt that it seems incredible that our sexual fantasies mesh so neatly but he claims there’s nothing to be surprised about. According to him, most people are turned on by the idea of a spanking and, as I like to be on the receiving end, there was always a fifty-fifty chance that I’d end up with a partner ready and willing to oblige. I’m not so sure about that line of reasoning myself, but I never found any difficulty in providing Matt with an excuse to deliver a few firm slaps across my squirming backside and that usually served as a prelude to a bout of hot sex.
There was always something I could do at bedtime that was guaranteed to get on Matt’s nerves. He doesn’t seem capable of settling down to a good night’s sleep if the bedroom isn’t in apple pie order, whereas I’m more inclined to fling my clothes to the four winds and sort out the mess at some unspecified later date. He’s positively neurotic about the state of the bathroom. He’ll never permit me to leave sodden towels in the bath or on the floor and, when he’s really in a bossy mood, squeezing the toothpaste in the middle and leaving the cap off is sure to bring out the worst in him. For the most part I indulge his eccentricities and make a genuine effort to clear up after myself. I even try to leave the bathroom as he would wish to find it. But you can see how easy it was to provoke him into punitive action and the best of it was that, if I gave Matt an excuse to spank me, it always got him in a frisky mood.
Then there came the day when he was genuinely angry with me. I could tell because his whole demeanour changed. I know I’ve described him as bossy but that’s not fair; he’s normally the most accommodating of men. But this time there was no answering grin when I tried to make light of what had happened. Instead there was a steely sparkle in his eyes and his normally responsive features were set in a rigid expression of censure. My lame excuses and feeble jokes died on my lips and I looked at him in wide eyed alarm.
“It wasn’t that serious, Matt,” I assured him frantically. “The garage says it’ll only take two or three days to fix.”
“I don’t care a damn about the car, Joe,” he exclaimed with unaccustomed vehemence. “You could have been killed.”
“I wasn’t going very fast,” I pointed out, unwisely. “I was never in any real danger.”
“The speed you were going doesn’t matter,” he shouted. “Not in those conditions. You were shivering with shock when I got to you. Your body knew you were dicing with death even if you’re trying to make light of things now.”
“I’d have got away with it if there hadn’t been a lamppost in the way.”
Matt was unimpressed by my increasingly desperate attempts to deflect his anger. He did make a visible effort to bring his temper under control but he still looked appallingly grim. “And if the car had skidded the other way you’d have gone into the path of a lorry,” he insisted.
I could hardly deny the truth of what he was saying. He’d been at my side within minutes of my call and had witnessed the scene of the accident for himself. His office isn’t far away and he must have run all the way there on icy pavements. Given the state of the roads, and the blockage caused by my car obstructing the carriageway, the traffic was gridlocked. The lorry driver had abandoned his vehicle and was helping one or two other motorists who were trying to disengage the bonnet of my car from the lamppost. I was too shaken up to offer any assistance and they were finding it difficult to maintain a firm foothold on the impacted snow as they tried to shift my vehicle out the way. Matt knew just how lucky I’d been to avoid skidding into the path of the oncoming heavy goods vehicle; he could see where it had come to rest only feet from my crumpled car.
“I’m sorry,” I offered as a quick and convenient phrase to bring to an end a tense exchange and placate my seething partner.
“What for?” he countered.
For a moment I didn’t think he meant the question seriously but it soon became clear that he was waiting for an answer. “For crashing the car?” I ventured with that rising intonation which turns a statement into a question.
I saw him take a deep breath before he replied with studied calm. “I’ve already told you, Joseph, that I’m not bothered about what happened to the car. My sole concern has always been for your safety.”
He gave me a few moments to rethink my response but, by that stage, my brain had shut down. I just stood there miserably, hating the way the conversation was going but powerless to come up with an acceptable answer. I hung my head to avoid having to maintain eye contact and, the next thing I knew, Matt’s arms were around me and he’d pulled me into a crushing embrace.
“I could have lost you, love. A head on impact with that lorry might have killed you.” I heard his voice catch and his lips brushed my forehead. “I’m sorry that I shouted at you just now,” he added quietly. “It was just that you gave me such a fright. I didn’t know what I’d find when I got to the scene of that accident. I don’t even remember how I got from the office to the roadside.”
I put my arms around his waist and hugged him in silent understanding and sympathy. We stood leaning against one another for a long moment, each drawing comfort from the other’s love and reassurance. But when I lifted my head and ran the tip of my tongue invitingly along Matt’s jawbone he gently pushed me away. “Not now, love,” he said kindly, “we’ve got some unfinished business to sort out, remember.”
He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and invited me to sit down, before taking a seat on the other side of our small pine table. “It’s clear you haven’t thought about what you might have done differently, Joe,” he said quietly, “so let me go first and tell you what I’m upset about.” I must have had some inkling of what was coming because I visibly flinched, although I managed to hold my head up and look him in the eye throughout his damning recital.
“When we heard the weather warning on the radio this morning,” he began, “I was under the impression that we agreed not take our cars out. The police were urging drivers to make essential journeys only which is why I walked to the station to catch the train and you said you could work from home. In fact, you promised me that you would spend the day at home. Am I remembering our conversation correctly?”
“I ran out of cartridges for the printer, Matt. I thought I’d be fine driving into town and there’s that car park right behind Rymans.”
“Did you or did you not promise me that you’d spend the day at home?”
“Well..... yes, I probably said something like that this morning but the roads are usually clear by lunchtime so I thought it wouldn’t do any harm to pop out.”
“Wouldn’t do any harm or wouldn’t come to my notice? Does a promise mean so little to you, Joe?”
“No... I mean..... I don’t know. It’s just a figure of speech, Matt. I didn’t swear on the Bible or anything.”
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Joe. I’d never ask you to swear on the Bible and you know it. As far as I’m concerned, a promise is a promise and I would always accept your word as binding. Don’t you believe that the promises we make to one another are meant to be kept?”
“I suppose so,” I conceded reluctantly.
“If I’m honest, I have to say I find it hurtful hearing you say that a promise made to me is no more than a figure of speech to you.”
“I didn’t say that.” Matt looked at me quizzically and I hastily amended my comment. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. You’re getting me all confused. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Calm down. I’m not asking you trick questions. I’m just trying to be honest with you about my own feelings.”
“Are you angry with me?”
Matt took longer to think about his answer than I was expecting. “I can’t be angry with you, love,” he said finally. “I’m just so relieved that you’re alive and uninjured. I am angry that you risked your life though, and for a paltry ink cartridge. I’m angry that you’ve shown such a cavalier attitude towards your own safety and your promise to me. And I’m very disappointed that you seem unable to see what you’ve done wrong or to acknowledge the breach of trust between us.”
It was the sadness in Matt’s tone which reached me when his anger had simply washed over me. As he spoke of his disappointment my resistance crumbled, although I’d never really been resisting him. I’d just been concocting more and more fanciful excuses to justify my behaviour to myself. In truth, I knew, from the moment I left the house that I was taking a dreadful risk. The temperature was still below freezing, even at midday, and the roads were covered in sheet ice. I’d never have ventured out just to complete a print run for work but I’d promised to produce fliers for the pub quiz and, as always, I’d left the task to the last minute.
I dropped my head in my hands and pressed my fingers into my eye sockets as if the pressure could free up some obstruction in my brain. Surprisingly, the gesture did seem to get me thinking more clearly and I managed to whisper the truth behind my cupped hands, “I knew it wasn’t safe to take the car out.”
“What was that, love?”
I was forced to make my admission more audibly. I dropped my hands and looked Matt in the eye. “I knew it wasn’t safe to take the car out,” I said, trying to suppress the slight tremor in my voice. “The minute I saw the state of the roads I knew, but I just decided to take the risk and hope I could get away with it.”
“You did get away with it, love. You walked away unscathed and the insurance company will pay for the car. I’m just so grateful for your lucky escape.”
I’m sorry, Matt. I’m really, really sorry. I should never have left the house, especially after I promised you I’d stay here. And I did take my promise seriously, it was just that.... I don’t know... I managed to put it to the back of my mind, sort of conveniently let myself forget about it, I suppose. I’m so sorry. I feel dreadful about disappointing you and... and so guilty for giving you such a fright.”
“Thank you for saying sorry, Joe. I know you’re sincere this time and it means a lot to me hearing you acknowledge your fault. I’ll gladly accept your apology but you’re going to have to do more to make amends. We don’t have conversations about safety for you to conveniently forget all that’s been said as soon as you want to do something we’ve agreed is too dangerous. I want to make very sure that you won’t pull a stunt like this again.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked with apprehension. Matt had never before punished me for real but I knew at once that he intended to exact a stiff penalty for my disobedience.
“I think you need something to help you think twice about breaking your promises and taking foolish risks. It’s too easy to say sorry, Joe, and then forget all about it until the next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” I assured him earnestly.
“I intend making very sure of that and I think a good spanking will serve as a firm reminder.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, playing for time as I felt panic rising.
“You know what I mean, Joe; you know how this works. You drop your pants and bend over my lap and I spank your bare bottom until I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson.”
“Now?”
“Of course, now. We don’t want to drag this out any more, do we?”
“Here, in the kitchen?”
“Well, we’re certainly not adjourning to the bedroom. This isn’t going to be a play spanking, Joseph; make no mistake about that. You’re going to be paying in full for your error of judgement and, trust me, by the time I’ve finished you’ll no longer be feeling guilty.”
I got up slowly and walked around the table to Matt. He’d drawn his chair back to create space around him and I went to stand miserably at his side, waiting for instructions. When none were forthcoming I put my hand to my belt and began to fumble with the loose end which I’d threaded tightly though its leather loop.
It seemed so wrong to be doing this in cold blood, in broad daylight and in the sterile surroundings of our kitchen. I was bitterly embarrassed at the prospect of baring myself for punishment and the thought of lowering myself across Matt’s lap made my stomach churn with a mixture of dread and shame. As my hand moved to the belt buckle my nerve failed and, with sudden determination, I said, “No. I can’t do this, Matt.”
He looked at me for a long moment, gauging my resolve, and then said without condemnation or rancour, “It’s your call, Joe. If you don’t want to go through with this, for whatever reason, I’m not going to force you. We’ll find some other way to sort this out.”
“How?” I demanded. “I’ve hurt you, disappointed you and made you angry. How are you going to deal with that?”
“The same way everyone else deals with hurt, disappointment and anger. I’ll get over it. But don’t think you’re escaping a well deserved punishment,” he added firmly. “I said I was going to make damn sure you never do anything like this again. Rest assured; you’re not going to be driving that car, except with my express permission, for at least a month.”
I nodded my acceptance. In the circumstances it seemed like the best I could hope for. Matt stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. “Let’s make a start on dinner,” he said briskly as though the previous conversation hadn’t taken place. “What do you fancy eating tonight?” I didn’t fancy anything but when Matt suggested a chicken stir fry I agreed and set to work chopping the vegetables into fine strips. If I didn’t eat as much as usual, Matt made no comment and eventually we moved to the sitting room to watch television. He turned to the football which I could watch without having to follow any plot or dialogue but even so, I was unable to respond sensibly to his occasional observations about the game.
We were sitting side by side on the sofa and when the match went into half time Matt put an arm round my shoulder and pulled me against him. “Stop chewing on yourself,” he said kindly. “You made your decision and I respect it. You’ve accepted an alternative penalty. It’s done with, dealt with, forgiven and forgotten. Move on.”
“I can’t help it,” I said glumly. “I still feel guilty and now I feel like a wimp as well.”
“Don’t be silly. You’ve got nothing to prove and nothing to feel bad about. I offered a spanking as one way for us to deal with your misbehaviour. I quite understand if you don’t feel able to accept correction administered in such an intimate way. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you without prior discussion. I assumed too much based on what we’ve already done and I’m sorry that I put you in the position of having to refuse.”
“You don’t have to say sorry. I can take it..... you know I can.... I like.... sometimes....” I trailed off. As I’ve said, I never find this an easy topic to talk about but Matt seemed to know what I was trying to say.
“Hey, what we do in the bedroom is something entirely different. There’ll be no changes there.... unless you’re telling me that you don’t like getting your cute little bottom warmed.” Matt laughed and I couldn’t help but grin in return, although I knew I was blushing.
“No, I’m not saying..... It’s not that I don’t like.... I’m okay...”
“I thought I’d read your reactions correctly,” he said with obvious relief. “But I do think there needs to be some sanction for what you did today, something to make you feel you’ve paid the penalty and to put things right between us. Believe me, Joe; I’m not letting you off lightly.”
“Oh, I know that. Am I permitted to ask in what circumstances I’ll be allowed to drive the car?”
“Of course. If I’m not available to drive you myself I’ll give permission for essential journeys.”
“So I need to ask you every time I leave for work?”
“Oh, you won’t be driving to work. You can use public transport.”
That came as a nasty shock but I knew there was no point stating that I’d have to take two buses as well as the train. Matt knew precisely how difficult it was to get to my office by public transport. He also knew that I’d have to get up an hour earlier in the morning if I couldn’t do the journey by car. For that reason alone I would have been better off taking the spanking and getting my punishment over and done with. But that wasn’t the reason why I was feeling so unhappy about my hasty rejection of corporal punishment nor was it the reason why I’d spent the whole evening torn apart by conflicting emotions.
The television screen showed the players coming out of the tunnel for the start of the second half and Matt turned his attention to the game. I excused myself to go upstairs to the loo and then went into our bedroom to think through the situation on my own. I was surprised when Matt didn’t come looking for me but I think he recognised that I needed some time to myself. I sat on the bed and tried to make sense of my feelings.
I was already coming to the conclusion that I’d made a dreadful mistake. I’d panicked when faced with the frightening reality of a punishment spanking but on reflection I knew that I’d passed up the opportunity to give Matt a tangible demonstration of my remorse. He’d just apologised for springing an unacceptable penalty on me but, in reality, he understood my reaction to spanking better than I did myself. I suppose our bedroom games had given him ample opportunity to study my response to the power exchange and they’d led him to believe that I would submit willingly to his discipline.
Matt had been dead right. The only thing he’d misjudged was the crippling effect of my cowardice. If I’d just been a bit braver things would have been back to normal between us and I’d have been feeling a lot better. I would happily have watched the football sitting on a sore bottom just for the relief of feeling comfortable in my mind. Matt had tried all evening to cheer me up but I was still consumed with guilt and overwhelmed with regret that I’d rejected the one sanction guaranteed to set everything to rights.
It took me a while to figure out the way forward, although the solution was actually staring me in the face. I just had to find the courage to face up to it. I paced the bedroom floor, struggling with one of the most difficult decisions of my life but once I’d made up my mind the newfound sense of calm convinced me that I was doing the right thing. By the time I came downstairs, the football was over and I could hear Matt in the kitchen loading the dishwasher.
I went to stand hesitantly just inside the kitchen door and when he looked up from his task I took a deep breath and launched straight in. “I shouldn’t have refused the spanking, Matt. I deserved it and I don’t think I’ll feel right until I’ve paid for my faults over your knee. Please, can we go back to where we were this afternoon?”
Matt looked at me steadily. “Are you sure, Joe? You were pretty certain you weren’t ready for this. Has your change of heart got anything to do with having to use public transport to get to work? Because, I’m telling you now, you’re not having unrestricted use of your car, no matter what penalty we decide upon.”
“It’s got nothing to do with the car, Matt, I promise. I just want to feel I’ve paid for what I did to you. I want to put things right between us. I want to go to bed feeling better, even if I’m feeling sore.”
“You’ll be feeling sore alright. If this is really what you want to choose, I’m not going to go easy on you. You do understand that?”
“Yes, Matt. Please, do it now. Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ve had to nerve myself to get to this point.”
Matt looked hard at me and I held his gaze, praying that he could read my determination and wouldn’t be put off by my apprehension. I don’t know what he saw in my expression but it seemed to stiffen his resolve. He pulled one of the kitchen chairs into the centre of the room and called me over to his side. This time he made it easy for me, reaching up to unfasten my trousers himself and pulling them, along with my underpants, down to my knees. That only left me with responsibility for lowering myself across his knees.
That proved a more difficult task than I was expecting. There was no firm mattress to take the weight of my torso and, as I laid my mid section across Matt’s lap, my head and shoulders descended at dizzying speed towards the floor. I was immediately conscious of his powerful thighs pressing into my belly and I tried to take some of my weight on my limbs. I placed the palms of my hands on the cool tiles and tried to brace myself as I scrabbled to gain purchase with my toes which just reached the floor. My body was tense with anxiety and I was ashamed at my inability to control the trembling in my legs.
At once Matt’s left arm descended across my back and his hand curled tightly round my hip as he pulled my whole body more closely towards his own. It made me feel supported and secure and I stopped worrying about sliding off his lap and turned my thoughts to the punishment I would have to endure. When his right hand touched my bottom I flinched reflexively but he was just running his hand around the curve of my buttocks in what felt like a caress.
“Relax,” he said. “There’s no need to get yourself into such a state. Breathe normally. I’m not going to kill you.”
I realised that I was taking short, shallow gasps which were making me light headed and I had to make a conscious effort to breathe more slowly and deeply. As I did so, my panic subsided and the tension drained from my muscles. Matt must have felt my body go limp across his lap because he lifted his hand and asked, “Ready?”
I just nodded and then, realising that he couldn’t see my gesture of assent, I managed to utter the yes which sealed my fate. The flurry of blows which descended quite took my breath away; the sound alone was alarming and the sting was more intense than I’d ever experienced. I realised for the first time how careful Matt must have been when we were playing. I’d had no idea of the power which resided in his right hand and before long I was writhing and squirming across his thighs.
At one point I got a merciful break from the onslaught while Matt lifted my body a little further forward but he was merely bringing my sensitive thighs into range of his punishing hand and, by the time he called a halt, I was ready to promise anything just to escape further chastisement.
I lay across his lap for a while, catching my breath, wiping the tears from my cheeks and trying to adjust to the burning pain which permeated my buttocks and thighs. As soon as I tried to right myself, Matt assisted me to my feet and then held out his arms to offer me a hug. I stepped willingly into the comfort of his embrace, lent against him and laid my head on his chest. He murmured words of reassurance and forgiveness, and as I reconnected with the calm centre of my being, my spirits began to lift. Despite the blaze in my backside, I was happy again. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest and I could breathe freely for the first time since the accident.
The act of bending to retrieve the clothing bunched around my ankles made me wince and, once dressed, I slipped my hands behind my back and cautiously rubbed the afflicted area. I could feel the heat coming off my flesh through the fabric of my trousers and I jiggled my bottom and jumped up and down on the spot a few times in an effort to lessen the pain. Matt watched me sympathetically and then suggested we move to the sitting room where I could lie down on the sofa.
“Are you alright?” he asked anxiously when I was lying full length on my side. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I feel like I’ve paid the price for my broken promise and for my stupidity,” I answered honestly. “I feel like I’ve really shown you how sorry I am for frightening and upsetting you. I feel pretty sore but I’m less stressed now than I’ve been all evening. My one regret is that I didn’t have the courage to take what I deserved right from the start.”
“Don’t say that, Joe. You’ve shown tremendous courage and I’m so proud of you. It’s no easy thing to submit to physical discipline, to lie still over my lap and take a tough spanking.”
“I was too much of a coward to take it first time round though.”
“That wasn’t cowardice, Joseph,” said Matt with emphasis. “It took great bravery to say no to me when you weren’t happy with what I was proposing. I admire you for having the courage of your convictions and my only regret is that I didn’t discuss the role of discipline in our relationship in less charged circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should have asked you about it before today. We could have talked about my expectations and explored your feelings in an atmosphere of calm. Then we would both have known where we stood when it came to the crunch.”
“And I’d have died of embarrassment well before that, Matt. You know how uncomfortable I am talking dispassionately about such things.”
“I need to know how you feel about this, Joe. I’m never going to punish you without your consent.”
“You know how I feel, Matt. We’ve acted out this scenario often enough in the bedroom. You understand how my mind works; you knew a spanking would make me feel I’d paid the penalty and been forgiven. Sometimes I think you understand me better than I understand myself. You got everything right today. It just took me a little while to see it. You never tried to force me. You did nothing without my consent.”
“Are you sure? I’d hate to feel I manoeuvred you into something you’ll come to regret.”
“I’m sure, Matt. I trust you and I know you’ll always listen to me.”
“I swear I’ll never abuse that trust, Joe, and I hope you’ll always feel able to tell me how you’re feeling.”
Matt was looking at me with such an expression of love and sincerity that I just held out my arms to him. He stood up in response to my invitation and came to sit with me on the sofa. I shifted my legs to make room for him and he bent down and kissed me long and hard. When he spoke again it was in a lighter tone, although he was asking a serious question. “So I have your consent in principle to punishment spankings for serious offences?”
“Only in principle,” I stipulated. “In practice I have no intention of ever rendering myself liable for a second dose from your iron hand.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I never want to experience another day like this one.”
“So when do I get the car back?”
“I’ll reduce your grounding to one week, starting from the day the car is repaired. And you can pay the excess on the insurance policy out of your savings.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Care to commute that to a spanking?” he asked with a deceptively casual air.
“No thank you,” I replied hastily. “I’ll pay the excess.”
~*~*~*~*~
In the Beginning
by Jay
It just started out as a bit of fun, the odd game of slap and tickle, if you know what I mean. I’d made it as clear as I possibly could, without actually having to say the embarrassing words, that I really quite liked being pulled across Matt’s lap and having my bottom warmed. For his part, Matt felt no corresponding awkwardness about describing his own feelings. Not a bit of it! He could wax eloquent on the subject of my pretty little bum and how he liked to watch it pink up and glow a fiery red.
I would pretend to be outraged by his words. It wasn’t that difficult; I do a good impression of pouting and flouncing. But Matt wasn’t deceived. He knew how turned on I was by his description of my bubble butt writhing over his lap, of the handprints he laid on each cheek and the rosy flush he could impart to my nether regions. Well, I could hardly hide my response, could I? Matt has a nasty habit of embarking on his lyrical descriptions while I’m lying naked across his lap and sometimes my squirming and wriggling has very little to do with the blaze in my backside. So, as I say, Matt knew I wasn’t an unwilling participant in our little games.
Actually, it was always more than just a game. There had to be an excuse for a spanking, however flimsy. We both like the ‘who’s been a naughty boy?’ scenario and sometimes I’d mess about, do something stupid, simply to provoke the desired response. It’s not just the spanking, you see. I like everything that goes with it: the sense of shame, the humiliation of being bare arsed, the tense wait for the first stroke and, finally, the proffered apology and resultant forgiveness.
I’m afraid that makes it all sound much heavier than it actually was. I never really needed much in the way of spanking; the eroticism was all in my head. Initially I did feel a trifle uncomfortable about my attraction to such a shameful fetish but Matt says my feelings are quite normal, quite common even. He was so matter of fact about his own enjoyment of spanking, so articulate in the analysis of his own responses, that he helped me come to terms with my own needs and desires. For him, it was the appeal of having me at his mercy with my naked and trembling flesh positioned ready for his punishing hand. He was aroused by the visual and tactile stimulus which fed his need for dominance and control. In comparison, my own fascination with submission and punishment seemed positively tame.
I suppose we’re well matched, although the spanking only became a part of our bedroom fun and games after we’d been together for some time. As I say, it wasn’t something we’d ever talked about; somehow we just fell into the way of it. I’ve since said to Matt that it seems incredible that our sexual fantasies mesh so neatly but he claims there’s nothing to be surprised about. According to him, most people are turned on by the idea of a spanking and, as I like to be on the receiving end, there was always a fifty-fifty chance that I’d end up with a partner ready and willing to oblige. I’m not so sure about that line of reasoning myself, but I never found any difficulty in providing Matt with an excuse to deliver a few firm slaps across my squirming backside and that usually served as a prelude to a bout of hot sex.
There was always something I could do at bedtime that was guaranteed to get on Matt’s nerves. He doesn’t seem capable of settling down to a good night’s sleep if the bedroom isn’t in apple pie order, whereas I’m more inclined to fling my clothes to the four winds and sort out the mess at some unspecified later date. He’s positively neurotic about the state of the bathroom. He’ll never permit me to leave sodden towels in the bath or on the floor and, when he’s really in a bossy mood, squeezing the toothpaste in the middle and leaving the cap off is sure to bring out the worst in him. For the most part I indulge his eccentricities and make a genuine effort to clear up after myself. I even try to leave the bathroom as he would wish to find it. But you can see how easy it was to provoke him into punitive action and the best of it was that, if I gave Matt an excuse to spank me, it always got him in a frisky mood.
Then there came the day when he was genuinely angry with me. I could tell because his whole demeanour changed. I know I’ve described him as bossy but that’s not fair; he’s normally the most accommodating of men. But this time there was no answering grin when I tried to make light of what had happened. Instead there was a steely sparkle in his eyes and his normally responsive features were set in a rigid expression of censure. My lame excuses and feeble jokes died on my lips and I looked at him in wide eyed alarm.
“It wasn’t that serious, Matt,” I assured him frantically. “The garage says it’ll only take two or three days to fix.”
“I don’t care a damn about the car, Joe,” he exclaimed with unaccustomed vehemence. “You could have been killed.”
“I wasn’t going very fast,” I pointed out, unwisely. “I was never in any real danger.”
“The speed you were going doesn’t matter,” he shouted. “Not in those conditions. You were shivering with shock when I got to you. Your body knew you were dicing with death even if you’re trying to make light of things now.”
“I’d have got away with it if there hadn’t been a lamppost in the way.”
Matt was unimpressed by my increasingly desperate attempts to deflect his anger. He did make a visible effort to bring his temper under control but he still looked appallingly grim. “And if the car had skidded the other way you’d have gone into the path of a lorry,” he insisted.
I could hardly deny the truth of what he was saying. He’d been at my side within minutes of my call and had witnessed the scene of the accident for himself. His office isn’t far away and he must have run all the way there on icy pavements. Given the state of the roads, and the blockage caused by my car obstructing the carriageway, the traffic was gridlocked. The lorry driver had abandoned his vehicle and was helping one or two other motorists who were trying to disengage the bonnet of my car from the lamppost. I was too shaken up to offer any assistance and they were finding it difficult to maintain a firm foothold on the impacted snow as they tried to shift my vehicle out the way. Matt knew just how lucky I’d been to avoid skidding into the path of the oncoming heavy goods vehicle; he could see where it had come to rest only feet from my crumpled car.
“I’m sorry,” I offered as a quick and convenient phrase to bring to an end a tense exchange and placate my seething partner.
“What for?” he countered.
For a moment I didn’t think he meant the question seriously but it soon became clear that he was waiting for an answer. “For crashing the car?” I ventured with that rising intonation which turns a statement into a question.
I saw him take a deep breath before he replied with studied calm. “I’ve already told you, Joseph, that I’m not bothered about what happened to the car. My sole concern has always been for your safety.”
He gave me a few moments to rethink my response but, by that stage, my brain had shut down. I just stood there miserably, hating the way the conversation was going but powerless to come up with an acceptable answer. I hung my head to avoid having to maintain eye contact and, the next thing I knew, Matt’s arms were around me and he’d pulled me into a crushing embrace.
“I could have lost you, love. A head on impact with that lorry might have killed you.” I heard his voice catch and his lips brushed my forehead. “I’m sorry that I shouted at you just now,” he added quietly. “It was just that you gave me such a fright. I didn’t know what I’d find when I got to the scene of that accident. I don’t even remember how I got from the office to the roadside.”
I put my arms around his waist and hugged him in silent understanding and sympathy. We stood leaning against one another for a long moment, each drawing comfort from the other’s love and reassurance. But when I lifted my head and ran the tip of my tongue invitingly along Matt’s jawbone he gently pushed me away. “Not now, love,” he said kindly, “we’ve got some unfinished business to sort out, remember.”
He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and invited me to sit down, before taking a seat on the other side of our small pine table. “It’s clear you haven’t thought about what you might have done differently, Joe,” he said quietly, “so let me go first and tell you what I’m upset about.” I must have had some inkling of what was coming because I visibly flinched, although I managed to hold my head up and look him in the eye throughout his damning recital.
“When we heard the weather warning on the radio this morning,” he began, “I was under the impression that we agreed not take our cars out. The police were urging drivers to make essential journeys only which is why I walked to the station to catch the train and you said you could work from home. In fact, you promised me that you would spend the day at home. Am I remembering our conversation correctly?”
“I ran out of cartridges for the printer, Matt. I thought I’d be fine driving into town and there’s that car park right behind Rymans.”
“Did you or did you not promise me that you’d spend the day at home?”
“Well..... yes, I probably said something like that this morning but the roads are usually clear by lunchtime so I thought it wouldn’t do any harm to pop out.”
“Wouldn’t do any harm or wouldn’t come to my notice? Does a promise mean so little to you, Joe?”
“No... I mean..... I don’t know. It’s just a figure of speech, Matt. I didn’t swear on the Bible or anything.”
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Joe. I’d never ask you to swear on the Bible and you know it. As far as I’m concerned, a promise is a promise and I would always accept your word as binding. Don’t you believe that the promises we make to one another are meant to be kept?”
“I suppose so,” I conceded reluctantly.
“If I’m honest, I have to say I find it hurtful hearing you say that a promise made to me is no more than a figure of speech to you.”
“I didn’t say that.” Matt looked at me quizzically and I hastily amended my comment. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that. You’re getting me all confused. I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Calm down. I’m not asking you trick questions. I’m just trying to be honest with you about my own feelings.”
“Are you angry with me?”
Matt took longer to think about his answer than I was expecting. “I can’t be angry with you, love,” he said finally. “I’m just so relieved that you’re alive and uninjured. I am angry that you risked your life though, and for a paltry ink cartridge. I’m angry that you’ve shown such a cavalier attitude towards your own safety and your promise to me. And I’m very disappointed that you seem unable to see what you’ve done wrong or to acknowledge the breach of trust between us.”
It was the sadness in Matt’s tone which reached me when his anger had simply washed over me. As he spoke of his disappointment my resistance crumbled, although I’d never really been resisting him. I’d just been concocting more and more fanciful excuses to justify my behaviour to myself. In truth, I knew, from the moment I left the house that I was taking a dreadful risk. The temperature was still below freezing, even at midday, and the roads were covered in sheet ice. I’d never have ventured out just to complete a print run for work but I’d promised to produce fliers for the pub quiz and, as always, I’d left the task to the last minute.
I dropped my head in my hands and pressed my fingers into my eye sockets as if the pressure could free up some obstruction in my brain. Surprisingly, the gesture did seem to get me thinking more clearly and I managed to whisper the truth behind my cupped hands, “I knew it wasn’t safe to take the car out.”
“What was that, love?”
I was forced to make my admission more audibly. I dropped my hands and looked Matt in the eye. “I knew it wasn’t safe to take the car out,” I said, trying to suppress the slight tremor in my voice. “The minute I saw the state of the roads I knew, but I just decided to take the risk and hope I could get away with it.”
“You did get away with it, love. You walked away unscathed and the insurance company will pay for the car. I’m just so grateful for your lucky escape.”
I’m sorry, Matt. I’m really, really sorry. I should never have left the house, especially after I promised you I’d stay here. And I did take my promise seriously, it was just that.... I don’t know... I managed to put it to the back of my mind, sort of conveniently let myself forget about it, I suppose. I’m so sorry. I feel dreadful about disappointing you and... and so guilty for giving you such a fright.”
“Thank you for saying sorry, Joe. I know you’re sincere this time and it means a lot to me hearing you acknowledge your fault. I’ll gladly accept your apology but you’re going to have to do more to make amends. We don’t have conversations about safety for you to conveniently forget all that’s been said as soon as you want to do something we’ve agreed is too dangerous. I want to make very sure that you won’t pull a stunt like this again.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked with apprehension. Matt had never before punished me for real but I knew at once that he intended to exact a stiff penalty for my disobedience.
“I think you need something to help you think twice about breaking your promises and taking foolish risks. It’s too easy to say sorry, Joe, and then forget all about it until the next time.”
“There won’t be a next time,” I assured him earnestly.
“I intend making very sure of that and I think a good spanking will serve as a firm reminder.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, playing for time as I felt panic rising.
“You know what I mean, Joe; you know how this works. You drop your pants and bend over my lap and I spank your bare bottom until I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson.”
“Now?”
“Of course, now. We don’t want to drag this out any more, do we?”
“Here, in the kitchen?”
“Well, we’re certainly not adjourning to the bedroom. This isn’t going to be a play spanking, Joseph; make no mistake about that. You’re going to be paying in full for your error of judgement and, trust me, by the time I’ve finished you’ll no longer be feeling guilty.”
I got up slowly and walked around the table to Matt. He’d drawn his chair back to create space around him and I went to stand miserably at his side, waiting for instructions. When none were forthcoming I put my hand to my belt and began to fumble with the loose end which I’d threaded tightly though its leather loop.
It seemed so wrong to be doing this in cold blood, in broad daylight and in the sterile surroundings of our kitchen. I was bitterly embarrassed at the prospect of baring myself for punishment and the thought of lowering myself across Matt’s lap made my stomach churn with a mixture of dread and shame. As my hand moved to the belt buckle my nerve failed and, with sudden determination, I said, “No. I can’t do this, Matt.”
He looked at me for a long moment, gauging my resolve, and then said without condemnation or rancour, “It’s your call, Joe. If you don’t want to go through with this, for whatever reason, I’m not going to force you. We’ll find some other way to sort this out.”
“How?” I demanded. “I’ve hurt you, disappointed you and made you angry. How are you going to deal with that?”
“The same way everyone else deals with hurt, disappointment and anger. I’ll get over it. But don’t think you’re escaping a well deserved punishment,” he added firmly. “I said I was going to make damn sure you never do anything like this again. Rest assured; you’re not going to be driving that car, except with my express permission, for at least a month.”
I nodded my acceptance. In the circumstances it seemed like the best I could hope for. Matt stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. “Let’s make a start on dinner,” he said briskly as though the previous conversation hadn’t taken place. “What do you fancy eating tonight?” I didn’t fancy anything but when Matt suggested a chicken stir fry I agreed and set to work chopping the vegetables into fine strips. If I didn’t eat as much as usual, Matt made no comment and eventually we moved to the sitting room to watch television. He turned to the football which I could watch without having to follow any plot or dialogue but even so, I was unable to respond sensibly to his occasional observations about the game.
We were sitting side by side on the sofa and when the match went into half time Matt put an arm round my shoulder and pulled me against him. “Stop chewing on yourself,” he said kindly. “You made your decision and I respect it. You’ve accepted an alternative penalty. It’s done with, dealt with, forgiven and forgotten. Move on.”
“I can’t help it,” I said glumly. “I still feel guilty and now I feel like a wimp as well.”
“Don’t be silly. You’ve got nothing to prove and nothing to feel bad about. I offered a spanking as one way for us to deal with your misbehaviour. I quite understand if you don’t feel able to accept correction administered in such an intimate way. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you without prior discussion. I assumed too much based on what we’ve already done and I’m sorry that I put you in the position of having to refuse.”
“You don’t have to say sorry. I can take it..... you know I can.... I like.... sometimes....” I trailed off. As I’ve said, I never find this an easy topic to talk about but Matt seemed to know what I was trying to say.
“Hey, what we do in the bedroom is something entirely different. There’ll be no changes there.... unless you’re telling me that you don’t like getting your cute little bottom warmed.” Matt laughed and I couldn’t help but grin in return, although I knew I was blushing.
“No, I’m not saying..... It’s not that I don’t like.... I’m okay...”
“I thought I’d read your reactions correctly,” he said with obvious relief. “But I do think there needs to be some sanction for what you did today, something to make you feel you’ve paid the penalty and to put things right between us. Believe me, Joe; I’m not letting you off lightly.”
“Oh, I know that. Am I permitted to ask in what circumstances I’ll be allowed to drive the car?”
“Of course. If I’m not available to drive you myself I’ll give permission for essential journeys.”
“So I need to ask you every time I leave for work?”
“Oh, you won’t be driving to work. You can use public transport.”
That came as a nasty shock but I knew there was no point stating that I’d have to take two buses as well as the train. Matt knew precisely how difficult it was to get to my office by public transport. He also knew that I’d have to get up an hour earlier in the morning if I couldn’t do the journey by car. For that reason alone I would have been better off taking the spanking and getting my punishment over and done with. But that wasn’t the reason why I was feeling so unhappy about my hasty rejection of corporal punishment nor was it the reason why I’d spent the whole evening torn apart by conflicting emotions.
The television screen showed the players coming out of the tunnel for the start of the second half and Matt turned his attention to the game. I excused myself to go upstairs to the loo and then went into our bedroom to think through the situation on my own. I was surprised when Matt didn’t come looking for me but I think he recognised that I needed some time to myself. I sat on the bed and tried to make sense of my feelings.
I was already coming to the conclusion that I’d made a dreadful mistake. I’d panicked when faced with the frightening reality of a punishment spanking but on reflection I knew that I’d passed up the opportunity to give Matt a tangible demonstration of my remorse. He’d just apologised for springing an unacceptable penalty on me but, in reality, he understood my reaction to spanking better than I did myself. I suppose our bedroom games had given him ample opportunity to study my response to the power exchange and they’d led him to believe that I would submit willingly to his discipline.
Matt had been dead right. The only thing he’d misjudged was the crippling effect of my cowardice. If I’d just been a bit braver things would have been back to normal between us and I’d have been feeling a lot better. I would happily have watched the football sitting on a sore bottom just for the relief of feeling comfortable in my mind. Matt had tried all evening to cheer me up but I was still consumed with guilt and overwhelmed with regret that I’d rejected the one sanction guaranteed to set everything to rights.
It took me a while to figure out the way forward, although the solution was actually staring me in the face. I just had to find the courage to face up to it. I paced the bedroom floor, struggling with one of the most difficult decisions of my life but once I’d made up my mind the newfound sense of calm convinced me that I was doing the right thing. By the time I came downstairs, the football was over and I could hear Matt in the kitchen loading the dishwasher.
I went to stand hesitantly just inside the kitchen door and when he looked up from his task I took a deep breath and launched straight in. “I shouldn’t have refused the spanking, Matt. I deserved it and I don’t think I’ll feel right until I’ve paid for my faults over your knee. Please, can we go back to where we were this afternoon?”
Matt looked at me steadily. “Are you sure, Joe? You were pretty certain you weren’t ready for this. Has your change of heart got anything to do with having to use public transport to get to work? Because, I’m telling you now, you’re not having unrestricted use of your car, no matter what penalty we decide upon.”
“It’s got nothing to do with the car, Matt, I promise. I just want to feel I’ve paid for what I did to you. I want to put things right between us. I want to go to bed feeling better, even if I’m feeling sore.”
“You’ll be feeling sore alright. If this is really what you want to choose, I’m not going to go easy on you. You do understand that?”
“Yes, Matt. Please, do it now. Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ve had to nerve myself to get to this point.”
Matt looked hard at me and I held his gaze, praying that he could read my determination and wouldn’t be put off by my apprehension. I don’t know what he saw in my expression but it seemed to stiffen his resolve. He pulled one of the kitchen chairs into the centre of the room and called me over to his side. This time he made it easy for me, reaching up to unfasten my trousers himself and pulling them, along with my underpants, down to my knees. That only left me with responsibility for lowering myself across his knees.
That proved a more difficult task than I was expecting. There was no firm mattress to take the weight of my torso and, as I laid my mid section across Matt’s lap, my head and shoulders descended at dizzying speed towards the floor. I was immediately conscious of his powerful thighs pressing into my belly and I tried to take some of my weight on my limbs. I placed the palms of my hands on the cool tiles and tried to brace myself as I scrabbled to gain purchase with my toes which just reached the floor. My body was tense with anxiety and I was ashamed at my inability to control the trembling in my legs.
At once Matt’s left arm descended across my back and his hand curled tightly round my hip as he pulled my whole body more closely towards his own. It made me feel supported and secure and I stopped worrying about sliding off his lap and turned my thoughts to the punishment I would have to endure. When his right hand touched my bottom I flinched reflexively but he was just running his hand around the curve of my buttocks in what felt like a caress.
“Relax,” he said. “There’s no need to get yourself into such a state. Breathe normally. I’m not going to kill you.”
I realised that I was taking short, shallow gasps which were making me light headed and I had to make a conscious effort to breathe more slowly and deeply. As I did so, my panic subsided and the tension drained from my muscles. Matt must have felt my body go limp across his lap because he lifted his hand and asked, “Ready?”
I just nodded and then, realising that he couldn’t see my gesture of assent, I managed to utter the yes which sealed my fate. The flurry of blows which descended quite took my breath away; the sound alone was alarming and the sting was more intense than I’d ever experienced. I realised for the first time how careful Matt must have been when we were playing. I’d had no idea of the power which resided in his right hand and before long I was writhing and squirming across his thighs.
At one point I got a merciful break from the onslaught while Matt lifted my body a little further forward but he was merely bringing my sensitive thighs into range of his punishing hand and, by the time he called a halt, I was ready to promise anything just to escape further chastisement.
I lay across his lap for a while, catching my breath, wiping the tears from my cheeks and trying to adjust to the burning pain which permeated my buttocks and thighs. As soon as I tried to right myself, Matt assisted me to my feet and then held out his arms to offer me a hug. I stepped willingly into the comfort of his embrace, lent against him and laid my head on his chest. He murmured words of reassurance and forgiveness, and as I reconnected with the calm centre of my being, my spirits began to lift. Despite the blaze in my backside, I was happy again. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my chest and I could breathe freely for the first time since the accident.
The act of bending to retrieve the clothing bunched around my ankles made me wince and, once dressed, I slipped my hands behind my back and cautiously rubbed the afflicted area. I could feel the heat coming off my flesh through the fabric of my trousers and I jiggled my bottom and jumped up and down on the spot a few times in an effort to lessen the pain. Matt watched me sympathetically and then suggested we move to the sitting room where I could lie down on the sofa.
“Are you alright?” he asked anxiously when I was lying full length on my side. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I feel like I’ve paid the price for my broken promise and for my stupidity,” I answered honestly. “I feel like I’ve really shown you how sorry I am for frightening and upsetting you. I feel pretty sore but I’m less stressed now than I’ve been all evening. My one regret is that I didn’t have the courage to take what I deserved right from the start.”
“Don’t say that, Joe. You’ve shown tremendous courage and I’m so proud of you. It’s no easy thing to submit to physical discipline, to lie still over my lap and take a tough spanking.”
“I was too much of a coward to take it first time round though.”
“That wasn’t cowardice, Joseph,” said Matt with emphasis. “It took great bravery to say no to me when you weren’t happy with what I was proposing. I admire you for having the courage of your convictions and my only regret is that I didn’t discuss the role of discipline in our relationship in less charged circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
“I should have asked you about it before today. We could have talked about my expectations and explored your feelings in an atmosphere of calm. Then we would both have known where we stood when it came to the crunch.”
“And I’d have died of embarrassment well before that, Matt. You know how uncomfortable I am talking dispassionately about such things.”
“I need to know how you feel about this, Joe. I’m never going to punish you without your consent.”
“You know how I feel, Matt. We’ve acted out this scenario often enough in the bedroom. You understand how my mind works; you knew a spanking would make me feel I’d paid the penalty and been forgiven. Sometimes I think you understand me better than I understand myself. You got everything right today. It just took me a little while to see it. You never tried to force me. You did nothing without my consent.”
“Are you sure? I’d hate to feel I manoeuvred you into something you’ll come to regret.”
“I’m sure, Matt. I trust you and I know you’ll always listen to me.”
“I swear I’ll never abuse that trust, Joe, and I hope you’ll always feel able to tell me how you’re feeling.”
Matt was looking at me with such an expression of love and sincerity that I just held out my arms to him. He stood up in response to my invitation and came to sit with me on the sofa. I shifted my legs to make room for him and he bent down and kissed me long and hard. When he spoke again it was in a lighter tone, although he was asking a serious question. “So I have your consent in principle to punishment spankings for serious offences?”
“Only in principle,” I stipulated. “In practice I have no intention of ever rendering myself liable for a second dose from your iron hand.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I never want to experience another day like this one.”
“So when do I get the car back?”
“I’ll reduce your grounding to one week, starting from the day the car is repaired. And you can pay the excess on the insurance policy out of your savings.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Care to commute that to a spanking?” he asked with a deceptively casual air.
“No thank you,” I replied hastily. “I’ll pay the excess.”
~*~*~*~*~
What Was is No Longer
Title: What was, is now no longer
Author: CarolWarning: No spanking, A Top getting the wits scared out of him
All mistakes are mine sorry.
Written for the March 2011 Tea Room Challenge
Traffic was at a dead stop; someone said there had been a bad accident at the intersection. I parked my car where I could, and got my medical bag. I figured that since I am a doctor, I might be able to help out. I got out of the car, and walked half a block, and saw total chaos all around; one car was on its side in the middle of the intersection. A police officer was trying to keep the foot traffic away from the area, and I could smell gas and hot oil. I showed him my medical work tag, and he let me through. When I saw the car that was smashed into the light pole, my heart stopped in mid-beat! I knew that car! The thought of me helping went out the window; I needed to find the driver of that car. The blood on the windshield made me sick to my stomach. I stopped another officer, and told him who I was looking for. He gave me a worried look, and pointed to a small group of people. The person I was looking for was sitting on the grass by a wall. He was holding a yellow shock blanket around him tightly, and had a blood-soaked bandage taped to his forehead; he looked as white as cotton.
I asked the EMT his status, and was told that he was very lucky that all he got was a few cuts and burses; those old cars don't have the safety stuff the newer ones have. The driver looked up at me, as tears started to fall, and his bottom lip did the little quiver thing it does. He gave me a weak smile, and held out his arms, as I dropped to my knees, and gently pulled him to me. I held him in my arms, and, as his head rested on my shoulder, all I could do was whisper softly in his ear that he was fine and alive; everything would be okay. His body was shaking, and because he could no longer hold onto his emotions, he let them out.
"I'm sorry about the car," he told me.
The car. I'd forgotten all about the car. I looked over at it. My mint condition `63 corvette convertible was no longer what it once was; it was now just a hunk of twisted metal.
"It's just a car," I told him, giving him a kiss to the forehead.
Author: CarolWarning: No spanking, A Top getting the wits scared out of him
All mistakes are mine sorry.
Written for the March 2011 Tea Room Challenge
Traffic was at a dead stop; someone said there had been a bad accident at the intersection. I parked my car where I could, and got my medical bag. I figured that since I am a doctor, I might be able to help out. I got out of the car, and walked half a block, and saw total chaos all around; one car was on its side in the middle of the intersection. A police officer was trying to keep the foot traffic away from the area, and I could smell gas and hot oil. I showed him my medical work tag, and he let me through. When I saw the car that was smashed into the light pole, my heart stopped in mid-beat! I knew that car! The thought of me helping went out the window; I needed to find the driver of that car. The blood on the windshield made me sick to my stomach. I stopped another officer, and told him who I was looking for. He gave me a worried look, and pointed to a small group of people. The person I was looking for was sitting on the grass by a wall. He was holding a yellow shock blanket around him tightly, and had a blood-soaked bandage taped to his forehead; he looked as white as cotton.
I asked the EMT his status, and was told that he was very lucky that all he got was a few cuts and burses; those old cars don't have the safety stuff the newer ones have. The driver looked up at me, as tears started to fall, and his bottom lip did the little quiver thing it does. He gave me a weak smile, and held out his arms, as I dropped to my knees, and gently pulled him to me. I held him in my arms, and, as his head rested on my shoulder, all I could do was whisper softly in his ear that he was fine and alive; everything would be okay. His body was shaking, and because he could no longer hold onto his emotions, he let them out.
"I'm sorry about the car," he told me.
The car. I'd forgotten all about the car. I looked over at it. My mint condition `63 corvette convertible was no longer what it once was; it was now just a hunk of twisted metal.
"It's just a car," I told him, giving him a kiss to the forehead.
End.
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