A Spanking Needed, a Spanking Earned

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It started, as it so often does with us, with a simple question.

Derek walked into the living room and stood over the sofa. “I’m going to make a coffee. Do you want one?”

I looked up from my magazine at Derek. I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Derek closed his eyes in a way that said he was trying to keep his cool. “It’s a simple question Tammy. Do you want a coffee? Yes or no?”

I never gave straight answers. It drove Derek wild. I knew what it would do to him today too, when he was working so hard, when he was so wound up with stress. I felt in a certain mood though too. Difficult. Capricious. Bored. It was awful of me, I knew, but I found I was in the mood to torture Derek. “Yes,” I said.

Derek turned towards the kitchen.

“Actually, no,” I said.

Derek turned back to glare at me.

“Or do I? I can’t decide.”

Blood filled Derek’s face; his skin went a darker shade before my eyes.

“I think I’d prefer a tea,” I said.

Derek exhaled. “What kind?”

I couldn’t resist. “I don’t know.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Tammy. Just say what you want.”

I didn’t like the tone Derek was taking with me and this was getting more amusing by the second. I loved seeing Derek angry too, it reminded me of how big he was, how much stronger he was than me. “Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll make the drinks. You go and work and I’ll bring your coffee to you.”

Derek relaxed. His posture uncoiled as the tension ebbed away. “Fine. Thanks.” He stalked off to his home office.

I didn’t even leave the sofa.

Twenty minutes later or so, Derek stormed back into the living room. “Where the hell’s my coffee?”

I looked up at Derek with an expression of total innocence on my face. I shrugged as if it was nothing. “I didn’t make it.”

Derek’s face darkened again. He glowered at me. “Why not?”

“I decided I didn’t want a drink after all.” I said it in a placid tone of voice I knew would drive Derek really mad.

“What the fuck Tammy? So you didn’t make me a coffee either?”

I shook my head. I looked back down at the magazine I had open across my lap.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

I glanced up at Derek and gave him a calculated look of irritation, as if he was being unreasonable and bothering me. “No. I’m busy.”

“Busy?” Derek roared. “Fucking busy? Are you really Tammy?” His voice got louder with every word. I had to fight not to cower as he strode forwards to stand right over me. “I’ve been working for fourteen days straight Tammy. I’m busy. But you,” he gestured at the magazine I was holding. “Don’t look too fucking busy to me Tammy.”

Derek frightened me when he shouted like that, when he shook with rage. It made my heart race, it made adrenaline pound through my body. It excited me. His condescension made me angry though too, and that’s a potent combination in me, fear, exhilaration, and ire. I could have stopped it there. I could have apologised and defused the situation. But I dove in headfirst instead. “Relax Derek, don’t be such a drama queen.”

Derek turned crimson. He stared at me in stunned, silent incredulity. I flashed him a winning smile. I was quivering with panic and anticipation now, but I fought to stay still, to look calm.

“You fucking bitch,” Derek hissed. “How dare you talk to me like that. How dare you behave like this.”

Here was the moment of truth. I gave Derek my most defiant look. “And what are you going to do about it? Drama queen.”

Derek’s eyes actually bulged. All the tension and stress of weeks of over-work, all that rage, it came to a head. He bellowed like a bull. Then he lunged at me.

I’d already tucked my feet under myself in preparation. I dived to the side and away from Derek’s arms as he crashed down onto the sofa. I wasn’t fast enough though. I tried to push up onto my hands and knees so I could leap up and sprint off the sofa, so I could run around the house and make Derek work to catch me, but he was too quick. A hand closed around my ankle.

Sometimes Derek lets me escape. Sometimes he lets me run. He likes to chase me, it’s part of our game. But today I'd pushed him too far, too fast, or maybe he was just worked up, but he was too furious to play like that today. I kicked my legs at him, I wriggled to try and break his grip, but Derek’s fingers felt like steel around my ankle. He grabbed hold of the other one.

Derek heaved me back towards him with sharp, angry tugs. I scrabbled at the sofa beneath me, I tried to dig my fingers into the material to drag myself away from him, but I couldn’t get any purchase. As much as I struggled, I couldn’t stop Derek dragging me backwards into his arms. He was too strong for me.

I tried to roll over so I could kick Derek properly, but he’s wise to my moves. He grabbed me and span me back over onto my front. He pressed me down into the sofa with a hand on my back. He leant into it, he trapped me so completely it was hard to breathe. Derek’s other hand was free though. And I knew exactly where it was headed.

We do this on a reasonably frequent basis. To say it adds spice to our lives is putting it mildly. I discovered when I was young that fear was a powerful aphrodisiac for me. That the fight or flight response was wired to my pleasure centres, apparently. Derek was the first guy who got it when I explained it to him though. He understood how to take advantage of it.

I writhed as best I could, but it was useless. And being trapped like that, so helpless, it really brought the panic on. As did picturing Derek lifting that free hand above me. I visualised the size of it, the feel of it, Derek’s hands were so big, his fingers so wide, and he was so powerfully built. I winced with anticipation. It got worse with every passing second, my heart hammered against the inside of my ribs like a panicked bird trapped in a cage.

Derek brought the flat of his hand down hard across my arse.

I screamed in pain and fright. I was only wearing yoga pants on my bottom half, not ev

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Written by darkcherrycollective
Cargado February 21, 2021
Notes Tammy is a spoiled little brat. She deserves everything she gets. And she wants it too.
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