Chocolate Talks (Part 2)

[goodgirl7]

In the car on the way home I open my mouth several times to speak, to lighten the atmosphere. Each time his stony face dissuades me from saying anything, so the entire trip back home is spent in silence. I can’t believe he’s that angry. He wasn’t nearly as angry, for example, that one time, early in our marriage, when I unfortunately mixed my red panties between the white t-shirts he wears under his shirts at work. The t-shirts had come out of the washing machine my favourite shade of baby pink, but, fussy as he can sometimes be, he hadn’t liked it and I got a major spanking for what he called my lack of concentration.

Afterwards he had laughed about it though. However, something tells me that we won’t laugh about today any time soon.

As we enter the kitchen with our groceries, he puts his grocery bags onto the counter, and then relieves me of mine. “I can do that mys…”, I start to protest, but another stony look silences me. He grasps my hand tightly and I meekly follow as he pulls me out of the kitchen. My heart sinks as I realize that we are heading for the study.

Apart from the obvious, the study has an alternative use. In addition to the desk, the swivel chair, the book shelves and his computer, the room contains a couch and a straight-backed chair. Furthermore, it contains a small – usually locked – cabinet in which he stores what he calls his “correction collection.” It’s the room my spankings take place. The real ones, which are very unlike the ones that happen in our bedroom.

Still without a word he pulls out the chair and sits down on it. He quickly and expertly unbuttons and unzips my jeans, then swiftly pulls them down to my ankles. Another tug at my panties, and I am bare from the waist. I can feel my face glowing, he knows how much I hate standing in the middle of the room with a bare bottom.

A deep sigh escapes my lips as I accept the inevitable. I watch him walking over to the cabinet, unlocking it and starting to search. Oh well, at least it will be over soon.

However, I gasp in horror as he turns around and see the item of his choice: it’s a large oval hairbrush which we normally don’t use for playing, as the sting is really bad. He had used it on me only one time – that time when I had been out with the girls and, well, let’s say, I overindulged a little. I mean, I don’t even remember throwing up all over his then new car when he picked me up, but I certainly remember him using the brush on me, the next day, while lecturing me. Something about being irresponsible and behaving like a teenager or something.

I had then sworn to myself to never do anything that might make him use it ever again… Now, what does this tell you about my memory?

He places the hairbrush on the chair. I frown. Where does he want to sit? I look at him curiously. How I wish he would talk. Even being yelled at would be better than just being glared at silently. “Look, I’m really sorry”, I begin, but he silences me with another one of “those looks”, if you know what I mean. He takes my hand and pulls me over to the corner.

“Hands on your head”, he orders me, and I am relieved that he talks again. “You will stand in the corner until I am ready for you.” I can hear the anger in his voice, though he tries to mask it. “I will come back and then we will have a little chat about what landed you in the corner. Understood?” I nod mutely, as he leaves the room.

Standing in the corner is just really stupid, I mean, honestly: What do you do in there? I pout at the wall as I hear him rummaging around our kitchen while he puts away the groceries. As the minutes go by, I start getting a wee bit anxious. How long can it take to put the stuff away?

I hear him move to the living room and turn on the TV. My jaw drops and anger flares up in me. Now what is that supposed to be? How long does he want me to stand here and wait? As he starts flicking through the channels I debate whether or not I will leave the corner and confront him. How can he make me wait like this? I’m fuming. If he doesn’t come soon, I swear I’ll put my jeans and panties back on and return to the kitchen and nothing’s gonna keep me in this corner, nothing at all! Except…

Except I guess I signed up for what is just happening.

We’re both spankos, just wired that way. As mentioned before, most of my spankings take place in our bedroom, but every now and then he feels that a punishment spanking is in order. He figures that I can be irresponsible at times and we have long since agreed that he has the right to try and remedy this with his preferred method of a trip to the study.

If I leave the corner now, if I stop trusting him to do what he thinks is best for me – what would that do to our relationship? It’s a thought I cannot bear, so with a deep sigh I put my nose back into the corner and continue waiting.

[spoiledbrat18]

Why would u do that to me? it was getting GOOD :'(

[sgtjoe]

Part 4 REQUIRED me to come back for 1&2 ... and I haven't been disappointed.