Mischief At Midsummer
A bonus chapter-
Elva knew everything there was to know about the Pendlecroft Midsummer festivities. She had not grown used to my less autocratic ways and insisted on bringing me tea, standing at the foot of my bed, and using that time to discuss things I would much rather hash out sitting before a roaring fire, clutching a mug of Starbuck’s finest. But I lived in the realm now, where we don't have coffee, and a certain part of my anatomy was already providing all the fire we needed.
Paying attention was not easy. Elva’s arrival had interrupted my getting a bare-bottomed spanking. She was oblivious to this.
“Of course, the strawberry baskets will arrive that morning, as well as the wine, and the fresh cream. The dowager madam has sent new baskets, along with soaps and salves since the harvest isn't long behind.”
Perhaps it was the fire in my hindquarters, or maybe it simply made no sense. “Wait, so strawberry baskets as well as new baskets and cream, wine, and salve will all arrive the morning of the festival? Arrive here?”
“No, madam,” Elva was remarkably patient with me all things considered. “Each of the cottages will awake that morning to find an enormous basket of strawberries from the estate. We also send along bottles of spring wine, and quarts of the best fresh cream from the dairy. The Erl does the spells to make that happen since no locks can keep him out of the cottages.”
I nodded, “That’s right, and then they join us for the feast and the dancing.”
“That is correct, madam. Dowager Madam Regina always handed out her baskets at the feast. Provisions that she thought would be useful in the harvest season.”
Like new baskets, gentle soaps for filthy children, and salves for irritated skin. My mother-in-law, Regina of Pendlecroft, and I had come a long way in our relationship but clearly had far to go, since she had never suggested to me what I might need to be preparing for.
“All right, as soon as I am dressed, I will speak to Regina.” I wanted to ask Elva how she was settling in after her own recent marriage, but I needed to get her out of my room, or the feather bedding that surrounded my hindquarters was straight up going to combust. It was impossible to find a comfortable position, even on the luxuriously soft bed, and I was near tears.
“Very well, Madam,” and she closed the door behind herself.
I immediately rolled over onto my tummy. Earlier that morning I had disregarded Nox’s request that I please stop interrupting him and let him finish a sentence, by telling him precisely what I thought of that proposal. That ill-thought-out comment had led to an instantaneous bare-bottomed spanking with my hairbrush. I kicked the covers off and grabbed the hem of my nightie. I lifted the gauzy cotton up and down trying to fan my red-hot bottom.
A chuckle made me whirl around. My husband had silently entered our room and was amused by the sight of me desperately trying to cool down my scorched rump.
“That is just rude,” I said, more quietly than I would have if my butt had not been on fire. “Just appearing on people like that.”
I flopped back down on my belly and let my nightgown fall over my roasted bottom. Nox nudged me to move closer to the middle of the bed. I did so, a little apprehensively. Typically, after he punished me Nox is tender and reassuring. More than once though, he had decided that my attitude demonstrated that the first spanking had been inadequate.
Usually, he would put a finger under my chin and insist that I look at him. This time he braced himself over me and pressed the side of his handsome face to mine. I could feel his chest pressing between my shoulder blades. He was over me and around me, protecting me and molding me. Our love story.
“Why did I spank you, young lady?”
I turned my face closer to his and whispered, “Because you asked me to stop interrupting you and I told you to shut up.” The warmth of his cheek against my lips was intoxicating.
“Do you think it’s acceptable for you to interrupt someone who is trying to speak with you?”
I lowered my eyelids, embarrassed. “No, it isn’t.”
“You know better,” he said firmly.
“I am sorry, “I whispered.
“I know.” He ran his hand over my scarlet bottom. “This could all have been over if you hadn’t rolled your eyes at me when I asked if you thought you’d learned a lesson.”
Oh Lightning underground, I swore to myself.
“Now, before we were interrupted by Elva, I was going to deal with the eye-rolling,” he began.
I began to beseech him not to spank me again. Just the thought of it made tears come to my eyes. “You can’t spank me anymore” I insisted.
I felt him lift himself off of me.
Oh, lightning underground.
“You make requests. You do not give me orders.”
I immediately began to try and cover my tracks. I protested that what I had meant is that I was already so sore, and I was already sorry, and I began to babble.
He wrapped his arms around me. “Shhhhh, my love calm down.”
Much easier said than done when you know you are about to get a spanking on an already scorched posterior.
Regret flickered across his face. He had wanted to conclude this and move on with our day, and I had gone and made it worse.
“Go get in the corner,” he said quietly.
“I am sorry, honey,” I whimpered as I did as bid.
I hate being in the corner. Hate it. I am always sure I am missing important things while time slows to a glacial pace. I am quite sure that tectonic plates have shifted in the time I have spent in that damned corner.
I pressed myself into it, and Nox must have sent a hex my way. My nightie folded itself up and perched around my waist, leaving me exposed.
One of the worst things about the corner is that I cannot see my husband, but I know he is watching me.
I heard a soft familiar noise and realized that he had summoned a book. This was not a good sign. I heard another noise and realized that he had settled into the chair and summoned a footstool.
Emotions raged in my chest. So, I had rolled my eyes at him. So, I had told him I was too sore to spank… Where was the lie in that? I was too sore to spank again and furthermore, I had shit that needed to get done… My wasting time pressed into a corner wasn’t doing anyone any good.
I let out an angry sigh.
Nox rarely speaks to me when I am in the corner, but this time he did.
“Young lady, I put you in the corner for two reasons. Number one, I need you to remember that I can. I have devoted my life to securing your well-being and if I think you need some time to reflect, you’re going to do it. Number two, I did it because I had to. I cannot allow you to disrespect me if I expect you to trust me.”
“But, honey, that’s just stupid, ” I protested.
He was behind me in two strides. The slap on my left cheek was blistering.
“No, I wanted to discuss it, and you made that impossible. The time for talking is over.” He laid on six more hard spanks, which on my already tender bottom made me begin blubbering immediately. He stood closely behind me. I know he doesn’t like to leave me alone while I cry. I also knew he wasn’t going to relent. Challenging his authority is not going to go unpunished.
He had a hand on each of my shoulders and he whispered directly into my ear. “You will stand here, without saying a word, or sighing at me, until I ask you to come to me. I strongly suggest you spend this time contemplating how you could have handled this differently.”
I nodded and kept my eyes down. I could never explain what I get out of having a husband who is prepared to correct me. I unwittingly got matched with Nox, having no idea that the arrangement was supposed to include me being his submissive. I’d fallen hopelessly in love with the man. I had expected to like the sexy stuff. We had a chamber full of implements, and special furniture. Sexually submitting to him was exciting, fulfilling, and thrilling.
Allowing him to mold me, to actively try and make me a better person has turned out to be more satisfying than I could ever have imagined.
All of which is fine and dandy, but I was standing in the corner, butt on fire about to get more. I pressed my forehead against the cool wall.
My thoughts settled. Our conversation is always fast and intriguing. I love throwing ideas around with Nox. But if I was honest, I would never talk over a colleague at the university. Treating your husband worse than people you don’t even like is deeply shitty. He had asked me to stop. Had I just slowed down? No, I had not.
He had taken me in hand, precisely what I ask of him, and made it clear that I had stepped out of line.
When he tried to bring my punishment full circle, to make sure I understood and that all was forgiven, I had been a jerk.
Another sigh rattled out of me, but this one wasn’t about defiance. This one was pressed out of my chest by my regret, acknowledgment and sorrow.
Quietly my husband summoned me to join him.
I stood in front of his knees; eyes downcast.
He gently tugged at a lock of my hair. “I really wish it hadn’t unfolded like this,” he said.
All I could do was nod miserably. He took hold of my elbow and turned me sideways. I have tried to relax about him looking so closely at me, but years of being uncomfortable in my own skin are hard to overcome.
“You are very red,” he said solemnly.
“No shit Sherlock,” came to mind, but remained unsaid. It would be suicidal, and he wouldn’t even get the joke, since Nox’s understanding of non-magical culture is rudimentary. “I should make you wait until bedtime to get this spanking.”
I immediately began to beg.
“Not today, please don’t make me wait today.” I was already a nervous wreck about my first Midsummer festival as Madam of Pendlecroft. The only thing that could make me dread this day more was having a bedtime spanking hanging over my head.
He took a deep breath, clearly thinking it over. He is not prone to listening to whining, but I did make an excellent point. We had enough to worry about. Just keeping me from spilling drinks on people, saying the wrong things, and getting into a duel with my mother-in-law would be a full-time job. The addition of pre-spanking anxiety might cause me to just swirl up into a tornado of clumsiness leaving death and destruction in my wake.
He turned his hand over, and it suddenly contained our lightest paddle. Nox narrowed his eyes at it and it suddenly thinned itself out until it was essentially a ruler with a handle.
“Over you go,” he gestured towards his lap. With dread in my heart, I did as he asked. “Put your elbows on the floor,” he said.
Doing that meant that my butt wasn’t precisely centered over his lap. I swallowed hard when I realized what he had in mind.
“Not the thighs,” I said. “Not the thighs!”
“Hush,” he chided. He had crafted a very light and narrow implement and it stung like crazy when it connected to the skin just below the already roasted part of my anatomy. “Ow!” I yelped as he spanked the uppermost reaches of my thighs. The sting was like fire ants and I kicked and wiggled and yelped. I think he’d laid on five licks when I lost possession of my senses and twisted my shoulders up to get off of his lap.
Nox is much faster than I am, and he immediately pressed me back down. He was not pleased with my attempted revolt. The spanking continued harder and faster until tears ran down my nose and I howled.
It took me a second to realize that it had stopped. I gave a deep shuddering breath and let the tears fall. Nox disappeared the paddle and helped me up with both hands. Gathering me into his chest he let me cry and rubbed my back.
“I don’t think you’ll roll your eyes at me again.” He chuckled, ”At least not today.” He lifted up a hand and in his deep voice that managed the most complex spells without ever stumbling, murmured “Fionniur”. With his left hand, he gently rubbed my back. “Pull up the nightie.”
Perhaps I had misread the situation, dammit. I really did not want another spanking. This was not the morning to be stubborn, however. Without a second's hesitation, I hiked it up and waited for whatever was coming. He draped a cold cloth over my hot skin.
“See, I'm not such a meanie.”
“Oh yes, you are, the biggest meanie.” We laughed together and he nuzzled his face into my hair.
He kissed my tears away. “Unfortunately, we will have to finish making up later, we are already late.”
Nox hates to be late for anything but being late for something involving his estate had to be a first.
“I’m sorry, I made us late,” I whispered.
“Clean slate,” he said. “I’m sure your assorted dresses are ready,” he kissed the tip of my nose. “Do you need me to call someone to help you get dressed?”
“Oh no,” I answered hurriedly since I had zero desire for anyone to see my beet-red backside. “I will be fine.”
How sizzling is that- drop me a message to let me know what you think-