Fisher Family Values, a tale by Karla

The Fisher family were having a quiet night in that Friday. The kids had been given tea, taken to the video shop and allowed to choose a video of their own. Now they were settled in the living room the kids on the sofa with Bouncer, the family pet bulldog between them. Joe Fisher was captivated by the film, Shrek II, and was chuckling away. Mary, his wife was kneeling on some cushions by his chair, head and one hand on his thigh. Occasionally Bouncer would lazily lift his head and peer mystified as one of the kids grew overly excited. Altogether it was a sublime picture of domestic harmony. Now in their thirties, the children Lucy 9 and Ben 11, the parents knew how lucky they were. They both had good incomes, jobs they liked and a fine four bed roomed house.

Mary was not really fond of animated films but she was pleased the kids were happy with it, and it was no chore for her to enjoy this time together. Sometimes she would look up at Joe and smile secretly, casting her eyes down demurely if he looked her and crinkled his eyes in that way he had. When Joe unconsciously ran his hand over her hair she felt a wonderful warm glow inside, like a teenager, even after all these years he still excited her. When Lucy had said she needed the toilet Joe had good naturedly paused the DVD player and both kids took the opportunity to go to the bathroom. Joe had leaned down and nuzzled the back of Mary’s neck and whispered “Well you earned your spanking, brat, happy now? How about a cup of tea for your Master?”

Shivering with excitement and at being tickled by his breath Mary had smiled and murmured, “Of course Sir, and yes Sir,” and squeezed his thigh as she stood and went to the kitchen. As she busied herself with tea for Joe, chocolate and biscuits for the kids and horlicks for herself Mary couldn’t help but smile and think about how she had bratted Joe all last night, this morning on the way to work after dropping the kids off. Her stomach felt queasy; there was definite warmth between her legs as she contemplated receiving her just reward. She loved the hand spankings he gave for fun after she had let him know she was needy of a good bottom warming. It wasn’t often she got the chance to play the brat though, because Joe, give him his due, was ever mindful of her needs and spanked her for fun as foreplay regularly. Mary hoped the kids would settle quickly after the film so she could take her proper place over Joe’s lap. She heard the kids come back, heard Joe teasing them while they waited for her to finish their supper.

When the tray was loaded Mary took it through, serving Joe his tea first, then the kids before sinking back down onto the cushions again, smiling contentedly when Joe gave a nod of approval. When the kids finished she went round and gathered the cups, saucers and plates and amidst good natured “awww mums!” wiped the milky chocolate froth off their upper lips. At last the film was over and Joe took the kids off to their beds via the bathroom for teeth cleaning and ablutions. He really was good with the kids, so gentle and yet let them have adventures, didn’t wrap them in cotton wool. Rarely did he have to raise his voice to them; never once had he smacked either child. Mary did the few remaining domestic chores and made her way upstairs.

She went into their bedroom, showered briefly, and slipped out of her clothes and into a short night dress and a sheer dressing gown. In slippers she walked slowly along to Joes study, went in and took her robe off and sat quietly on one of the three chairs. When Joe slipped into the room Mary stood and faced him, keeping her face downcast, the perfect picture of a sorrowful apprehensive brat. Without a word he, as she knew he would, he ignored the built in cupboard and crossed to his desk, opening the second drawer down. What she never knew was what he would pull out, that was the thrill for her, part of the thrill. Her eyes widened when she saw that damned hairbrush, he KNEW how that got to her, made her squeal! As Joe put the brush carefully on the desk Mary gave a philosophical mental shrug thinking that she had after all initiated this by pushing Joe’s buttons. Still without a word he pulled a hard backed chair into the middle of the room, sat and then looked at her. His eyes made her feel as though she were melting, always had, always would she supposed.

“OK brat,” he said in an amused tone, “let’s get you dealt with, come over here! Wordlessly she obeyed,, standing in front of him, hands behind her back, head down, shuffling her feet, listening as he detailed all the silly things she had done to wind him up. As always Mary let most of it wash over her, knew he was deliberately prolonging her wait, making her need grow and grow. Eventually the tirade wore down to a close and she felt Joe tugging her left arm to position her at his right side. “My lectures don’t seem to have much of an effect,” he said with mock severity, “let’s see if this makes more of an impression!”

With that Mary found herself tugged (or did she leap?) over Joe’s lap, hands instinctively reaching out to support herself, feet stretching out behind her. “Oh no Sir, not that!” she complained with pretended fear as Joe lifted her nightie onto her back exposing her backside, “not on the bare Sir, oh please don’t!” Joe, as she expected (and hoped) ignored her and begin to slap her bottom quickly and sharply, not really hurting her, just stinging her bottom enough to stimulate her. Without her realising it Mary’s cries became soft sighs of pleasure as she felt the warmth spreading, when Joe stopped her hips continued to rotate, pressing herself against his thighs. Joe began to stroke her cheeks softly and Mary opened her legs wider when she felt his hand sliding down her thigh then up her inner thigh. She stiffened as his fingers found her, then her eyes opened wide as first one then two fingers was slipped inside her. Her body as always exposed her as she felt liquid warmth gush over his hand. The fingers were withdrawn and she felt a very sharp smack across her right buttock. Even as she yelped she heard Joe’s voice.

“Hmmm obviously this spanking is not having the desired effect is it? So my girl, let’s see what we can do about that.” He reached across her and pulled her closer, took a firmer grip on her waist and began to spank in earnest. Mary began to gasp at each smack, delivered more slowly but much more sharply, sometimes landing on the top of the previous smack, sometimes not, but soon all Mary’s bottom felt as though it was on fire, she began to squirm in earnest and Joe slowed and stopped. Then the best part started as far as Mary was concerned, she felt safe and secure over Joe’s lap, loved the way his hand slowly and softly caressed her cheeks, explored between her legs. She lost herself in the sensations, squeezed her legs together trying to trap his fingers inside herself. Mary’s came back with a start when she felt Joe lean slightly and pick up the hairbrush.

“Sir, I’ve learned my lesson,” Mary begged, now only half playing as she felt the burning in her cheeks. “Can I just apologise again and we can go to bed and make love?” she finished somewhat hopefully.

“No we cannot, brat,” Joe said, his voice now low but firm, no trace of play. “We both know that if I don’t follow through as I promised you will try to take a little more advantage next time.” He chuckled now, “Nice try though sweetheart,” he said slowly rubbing the unyielding wood against her bottom. “Now then let’s see if we can remind you about who is sub and who is Boss in this family. twenty nice firm swats I think Mary.” Mary felt her stomach in her mouth. as she listened. She knew she loved going over Joe’s lap, she knew that as a family they were happy partly because she enjoyed serving them. Mary realised that this play session was going to end with a proper spanking to remind her of her chosen place and she felt apprehensive even as she accepted Joe was probably right and she mentally prepared herself. Mary loved being his submissive, loved submitting, adored the after effect of a real spanking but hated the actual pain of the spanking. As Joe continued she felt herself slipping out of her playful brat attitude to her true submissive nature. “I expect you to count each swat Mary, and when I am finished I’ll expect you to thank me for taking the time to help you see your way.”

Mary sank deeper into her naturally submissive mindset a she prepared herself, checking her legs were straight, her bottom in the best place for Joe, no longer was she squirming or pretending to try and escape. “Yes Sir,” she whispered, “Thank you Sir.” Mary felt the brush lifted, felt Joe hesitate then a sudden movement, a sudden loud thwack as her bottom was flattened by the brush. She hissed in pain but forced herself to remain still for him. She collected herself and said calmly, “One, thank you Sir.” This set the pattern and Mary lay quietly, accepting the pain, realising that Joe, as always, was right; she needed this reminder, this opportunity to reaffirm her submissive side. By the time Mary said “Nine, thank you Sir,” her voice was breaking, her bottom was wriggling no matter how hard she tried to remain still for Joe. The delay before she spoke became longer and Mary was yelping softly after each swat by the time she hissed “Fifteen, thank you Sir.” Tears had started to flow, Mary was feeling sorry for herself, but she also felt something leaving her, felt vindicated by her suffering. She was sobbing uncontrollably, sniffling, actually begging by the penultimate swat. “Ouch!” she had squealed, her bottom wriggling, trying in vain to hide form that instrument of fire. She had to lay gasping for a few seconds before she rallied her will and blurted out, “Nineteen thank you Sir.”

Mary felt the brush deliberately placed right across the middle of her bottom, knew what was coming and cringed but had no thought of moving. The brush was lifted and slammed down harder than before, driving pain into both cheeks, causingher to scream softly. She lay there sobbing, weak and relaxed now. Between her sobs she managed to stutter “Twenty thank you Sir.” Joe helped her stand, cuddled her briefly and led her to the wall, grasped her wrists and eased them to her head. Mary stood there, her bottom on fire, feeling sorry for herself but slowly her pride returned, she was so proud that Joe had once more asserted His role, reminded her of her place. She heard Joe return the brush to its’ place, heard him moving about as he tidied up, heard the chair creak as he sat down to enjoy the view of his handiwork, as he always did.

When Mary quietened, controlled her sobbing and her emotions she realised just how damn good she felt, renewed almost. She was full of nothing but love for Joe and her family now, wondered whimsically to herself if there was a better or easier way for a family to appreciate each other. She let her hands fall and turned smiling gently as she heard Joe’s low command. “Come here Mary.” She approached Joe and stood before him, smiled into his eyes and said softly and sincerely, “Thank you Sir, you were right I really did need that.” Joe nodded seriously, took her hips and turned her round to check her bottom for bruising, without a word Mary bent over to give him a better view. Joe stood and gathered her into his arms, cuddled her close, told her what a good girl she was, a wonderful wife and mother. Mary basked in this praise, the heat in her bottom now becoming an aphrodisiac again. Joe held her by her shoulders and eased her to arms’ length, gazed into her eyes then spoke in his low commanding voice he used to ensure Mary knew she was being disciplined and taught.

“You did well Mary, you look beautiful, radiant now. However there is one other matter that we must decide about, deal with.” Mary felt her heart stop again, thought hard, wondering what else she might have done to spoil their domestic harmony. She could think of nothing, indeed she thought she had been forced to brat to receive her spanking tonight because she had been performing so well. In her present frame of mind it was easy for her to stand quietly, secure in the knowledge Joe would be fair, would never punish her more than she deserved. She waited for him to explain. “Yes,” he continued in that same slow measured tone that thrilled her, “we need to decide whether I take you back to our bedroom or whether you are still young enough for me to make love to you over that desk.”

As the full import of his words became clear Mary began to smile, God how she loved this man! “I know you are a bit of a fuddy duddy now Sir,” she teased. “But you are not in bad shape for your age so we can do whatever pleases you.” She giggled and winced as Joe turned her and half lifted her onto the edge of the desk. She tore off her short nightie even as her eyes greedily devoured the site of Joe dropping his trousers and stepping forward, his lust clearly demonstrated by his eyes and his erect penis. Mary’s senses were sensitive now and as she leaned back and spread her legs wider she felt the cool wood of the table on her back, the heat of her bottom and the fire between her legs.

Their love making did not last long, it was brief, almost brutal, left them both gasping, Joe lay on top of her supporting most of his weight on his forearms. Eventually, almost as if by unspoken agreement they stirred. Joe kissed Mary tenderly, said “Love you, babe.” Mary returned the kiss, smiled and siad huskily “me you too Sir, but I hope you have not finished yet, not too tired to fully service this wench?”

They had laughed softly together and arm in arm walked back to their bedroom. Joe began to kiis Mary as soon as they were next to the bed. As she fell back onto the bed she became still, held Joe and with total sincerity said, “Seriously Joe, thank you for tonight, I really do feel so much better now.” His reply was to cover her mouth with his and wordlessly prove his love over and over till they fell asleep in each others arms.

The End © Karla 2003