K e y s

 

Arms filled with grocery bags and the mail in her mouth, she stumbled through the door of the apartment. Balancing herself precariously, she used one foot to kick shut the door. Afraid of dropping of her packages, she hurried into the kitchen, dumping them on the countertop. She grimaced, remembering the egg carton buried somewhere at the bottom. Kicking off her shoes to one side, she sorted through the mail. Still debating the all-important question of what to make for dinner, she began by putting away her purchases.

The sound of the front door opening caught her attention as she shuffled through the contents of the refrigerator to make space.

“Hi, honey,” she called, still facing the refrigerator. “Give me a sec.”

“Hi.” His voice sounded unusually clipped. “”Can you come here, please?”

She turned around to look at him. He stood in the doorway, one hand still holding the door half-open.

“Um. I’m putting stuff away,” she replied, holding up a jar to emphasize her point.

He frowned at her. “No. Come here.”

With an annoyed sigh, she shut the refrigerator abruptly. “What?” she asked, her voice filled with irritation as she walked in his direction.

He said nothing, maintaining his frown. He pushed the door open further as she neared him. The source of his displeasure rolled into view, and she stopped suddenly, a few feet away.

“Oh…” she whispered. She stared at her keys still turned in the lock.

He looked at her exasperated. “This has got to be the tenth time this month you’ve done this.”

“I’m sorry,” she shrugged uncomfortably. She reached in to retrieve her keys, scooting away from him quickly once she held them in her hand.

He shut the door, moving closer to her. Instinctively, she took a step back.

“What did I say would happen if you did this again?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I don’t remember,” she replied quickly, diverting her eyes to the floor.

“Maybe the hairbrush can help you remember.”

Her head snapped back up, eyes wide. “No!”

He stared at her unfazed. “Then tell me. What did I say would happen?”

She let out a small whine. “You said…” She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m going to lose my patience,” he warned.

“You said…” Her voice trailed off once again.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Hairbrush it is.”

He took several strides around her and headed down the hallway. She flung herself after him, clinging onto his arm.

“No! Wait!” She pulled him backwards with her weight.

He turned to face her. “Last chance.”

Her face flushed with embarrassment. “You said you’d spank me.”

“And did you do it again?

“But I didn’t mean to,” she replied.

“I didn’t ask you if you meant to or not. I asked if you left your keys in the door,” he demanded relentlessly.

She answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

“Ok, then.” With those words, he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her after him.

“But the groceries…” she faltered, stalling for time.

“Leave them.”

She dragged her heals helplessly in the carpet. Her silk socks provided no traction, and she slid down the hallway. In an act of desperation, she wrapped her fingers around the door frame of the bedroom. With his free hand, he slapped her hands roughly, prying her away forcefully.

He yanked her over to the bed. Blocking his hands with hers, she attempted to delay the inevitable. He collected her wrists in one hand, using the other to unbutton her pants. The slinky material dropped to pool at her feet. Her wiggling intensified as he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down to her thighs.

“Please,” she implored, struggling to break loose from his grip.

Ignoring her, he sat on the bed and hauled her effortlessly over his lap. His hand landed suddenly with a loud smack. She froze, startled more from the sound than the feeling of any sensation. The pain reached her a half-second later, bringing a surprised shriek. Before she could recover, he peppered her bottom with a thorough series of smarting swats.

She whimpered under her breath. “Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.”

“Are you going to be careless again?”

“No, I won’t. I won’t do it again.”

“No? No what?”

“No, sir,” she replied, sniffling back tears. Using her left hand for balance, she reached behind her with her right. Finding it soon captured and desperate to block the painful onslaught, she awkwardly sent back her left. Immediately, she found herself further immobilized with both hands pinned to her back.

“How many times do I have to remind you to be careful?” he asked incensed

She remained silent, assuming he was asking a rhetorical question.

“How many times?” he repeated, giving her an extra hard whack.

She kicked one foot reflexively, both feet beginning to lift off the ground. “You won’t anymore. I’ll be careful.”

“Someone could have stolen the key,” he lectured. “Or walked in on you.”

“Ow. Please stop. I won’t do it again. I promise,” she pleaded, willing to promise him the moon.

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?” he asked, emphasizing each word of the question with a swat.

Sure he was splitting her in two, she twisted frantically to no avail. Held tightly in his grip, despite shifting her bottom, his hand struck its intended target each time. Desperate, she brought her feet up, managing to partly cover herself.

“Put your feet down.”

“Oh, please,” she begged.

He answered with a biting slap to her thigh. “Down.”

Reluctantly, she slowly lowered them to the floor.

He landed several more swats to the back of both thighs. “Keep them down. I mean it.”

“But it hurts!”

“Good. That’s the whole point,” he answered calmly, returning his attention back to her backside.

“No, it really hurts,” she insisted, drumming her feet against the floor. “I don’t think you understand.”

He responded insouciantly. “Oh, I understand.” Undeterred by her wiggling and pleas, he rained down a merciless assault on her bottom, now a deep red.

She broke into sobs. “Please. It hurts. I’m sorry.”

“Are you going to forget again?”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, sir.

He stopped, resting a hand on her bottom before helping her to her feet. He stood up and pushed her in the direction of the only open corner in the room. “Go.”

Understanding his simple command, she shuffled to the corner; her panties and pants still around her ankles. Nose pressed in, she cried mournfully, her body racked with hiccupping sobs. She stood silently, knowing any disobedience would result in another spanking, regardless of the condition of her bottom.

Ten minutes later he called her to him. She fixed her clothing, and turned around, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. Sensing her hesitation, he walked to her, drawing her into a gentle hug. She leaned into him, tears forming again. He held her in his arms patiently, waiting for her small shudders to subside.

“I don’t like doing that,” he whispered softly. “Don’t make me do it again.”

Wiping the tears from her face, she nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he replied, giving her a kiss on the top of her head. He gave her a final squeeze. “Why don’t you go take a bath? I’ll make dinner.”

She nodded, disengaging herself from his embrace. Running her hands through her hair, she cleared displaced strands out of her tear stained face.

“Hey,” he said, stopping her halfway out the door. “Do you still love me?”

She looked at him seriously. “Of course, I do.”