Sylvie was upset. It was Valentine’s Day and Connor was being a prick! He’d made himself scarce the last week. He’d been in a hideous mood for days, biting peoples’ heads off at the least provocation. One of the cooks was reduced to tears yesterday when he chewed her out for making his scrambled eggs runny. You would have thought she’d fed him strychnine or arsenic the way he behaved. Connor had spent all his time either huddling with Brady, on the phone, or working on the book. He didn’t lay down with her at nap or bedtime anymore. He said he was too busy. He had no time for her! It was just as well, because every time she saw him he was scowling, sullen, and surly. She was getting disenchanted with Mr. Connor Hudson and his medical pronouncements on the state of her health and recovery. His bedside manner left a lot to be desired. He was acting like a dick! He hadn’t really said much to her lately, other than to issue orders. But today was the worst. He informed her she would be taking a three hour nap this afternoon. That’s what he thought! Sylvie refused, but Connor was adamant. She was taking a nap whether she wanted to or not. Sylvie kept arguing with him and telling him he was being unreasonable. She felt fine and wasn’t tired. But would he listen? Hell no! He undressed her while she squirmed and complained, then unceremoniously deposited her into bed with a resounding slap to her bare ass. That should have been fair warning. But sometimes Sylvie refused to heed the message…much to her own detriment. A three hour nap? Sylvie didn’t think so! She waited till Connor turned out the lights and shut the door, before climbing out of bed again. She’d show him! Sylvie put on her underwear, shorts, and top and opened the French doors leading out to the terrace.
She was surreptitiously making her way to the staircase when she heard a voice behind her say ‘Get back here right now young lady.’ It was never a good sign when he called her ‘young lady.’ She turned around to see him sitting at a table half-hidden by the open door, his fingers on his laptop keyboard, two cell phones nearby. He was glaring at her. ‘And just where the hell do you think you’re going?’
She was going to lie to him and say she had to tell Donna something about her knee being sore. But changed her mind. She couldn’t very well say her leg hurt when she’d already told him she was feeling better. They’d just eaten lunch, so she couldn’t tell him she was hungry and going to the kitchen for a snack. Maybe she could say there was a bad smell in the room and she was going to tell the maid. Would he believe that? Nope! Or how about a mouse? She could say she saw a mouse. No. She wasn’t afraid of mice. He’d seen her shooing mice out of her father’s barn when they were there for the wedding. Roaches were better. That was it, she’d seen a big ugly roach. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. She wasn’t much of a liar. Every time she tried, she got confused and tripped herself up. Connor considered lying a spanking offense. Did she really want to go there? Sylvie took a deep breath and owned up. ‘I was going downstairs. I didn’t want to take a nap.’
‘You purposely disobeyed me?’
‘I wasn’t trying to disobey you. I just didn’t want to go to bed.’
‘What kind of convoluted logic is that? I told you you had to take a long nap today. I undressed you and put you to bed for the explicit purpose of taking that nap. But instead of doing as you were told, you got out of bed, got dressed, and were leaving your room to go God knows where. You went against my wishes Sylvie. That sounds like willful disobedience to me. And I won’t have it. I have been letting you get away with murder lately because of your injuries; but you keep telling me you’re fully recovered so I guess we can resume regular discipline,’ he said, his voice stern and unyielding.
Sylvie didn’t like the sound of that…not at all!
‘You will go back inside, remove all your clothing, and bring me the leather paddle and the hairbrush. We’ll see if I can convince you that obedience is in your best interest.’
She thought about making a run for it down the stairs. Though her knee and ankle were better, she couldn’t outrun him before she got hurt, so what chance would she have now? The last thing she needed was to twist or reinjure them in a futile attempt to escape. She chewed her bottom lip, refusing to make eye contact, trying to decide what to do.
‘March!’ he ordered, not the least bit amused.
With her lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout, Sylvie walked slowly back into the room, refusing to look at him.
Connor followed her in and took a seat on the bed. She must be getting better. The little minx was just as willful and ornery as she’d ever been. But this rebellion of hers wouldn’t last long! She’d soon see the error of her ways. ‘Take your clothes off first, then bring me the items I asked for. And I strongly advise you not to dawdle. I’m extremely displeased with your behavior.’
He watched as she tore off her clothes and stomped to the dresser to retrieve the implements he’d use to punish her. She hated both with a passion. Good! She needed to learn a lesson today about following orders. If she was a more biddable girl, none of this would have happened in the first place. She would have been safe in the penthouse instead of almost being beaten to death and nearly dying. They’d never discussed why exactly she’d left. What had made her run. But he suspected he knew. It was him. She’d nearly died because he had his head up his ass. He’d driven her away. He’d been aloof, cold, and uncaring most of the time. Hypercritical and disparaging of everything she did. He’d kept her in isolation, a prisoner, expecting her to accept such treatment, while all the while flaunting other women in front of her. What was he trying to prove? Why had he done that? Once he left the parties and took the women home, he never touched them. But Sylvie didn’t know that. He’d let her think the worst. It was callous and cruel. He promised he’d be faithful and he was. So then why had he behaved the way he had? Was he testing her? Trying to see how far he could push her before she’d react? Before she’d throw in the towel and leave? He went crazy when other men even looked at her, talked to her, touched her. How much worse must it have been for her, seeing him with other women, because she loved him. What amazed him was that in all that time she never stopped telling him she loved him. He hadn’t expected that. The security people who’d seen her leave the building that night said she appeared heartbroken and was sobbing uncontrollably. He’d let her believe the man she loved didn’t care. He’d made so many mistakes with her. So many slights. So many hurts. But it was all water under the bridge now. They had to start again and this time he’d be different!
She shuffled back to the bed slowly, hairbrush in one hand, paddle in the other. She laid them down on the bed; then stood there, her eyes downcast, never looking up from the floor.
She needed to learn to obey him. Her safety might depend on it someday. He knew they couldn’t stay in hiding forever. When he issued orders in the future, he didn’t want to worry that she might not comply. Without saying a word he reached for her and pulled her down across his knee.
‘You, little girl, need to get it through your head once and for all that I make the rules. Not you! You will learn to do as you’re told or you will suffer the consequences.’ He picked up the paddle and brought it down hard on her pale right ass cheek five times in quick succession.
Sylvie yelped in protest and tried to wriggle free. Fat chance! He had her pinned in place. His left forearm was pressing down on her back while his hand restrained her flailing arm, which had been attempting to protect her vulnerable butt. Overpowered, she began thrashing and kicking wildly. His right leg locked over hers so she was rendered completely immobile. This spanking was going to proceed whether she liked it or not.
The sting was awful, like a hundred angry hornets had decided to coordinate an attack on her ass.
That side of her bottom was turning a rosy pink. Satisfied, Connor began peppering her left cheek with an equal number of whacks.
Sylvie shrieked in a mixture of pain and indignation. ‘Ow! Ow! Stop! Please stop!’ Swarms of hornets, stingers at the ready, were attacking the other side of her butt now. Her ass prickled as the sting began to heat, growing hotter and hotter until it burst into flame. Her ass was on fire!
‘You may not believe it, but I really do have your best interest at heart here. I am trying to protect you. Trying to keep you safe. But you continue to thwart my efforts at every turn. You’re your own worst enemy, Sylvie! Too willful and stubborn for your own damn good. Every time you don’t get your way, you go off half-cocked. You need to learn once and for all that just because you don’t like or agree with something, you can’t just take off and leave, do what you want! You’re impulsive. You act without thinking. That’s how you get yourself into trouble. How you get hurt.’
Sylvie stopped struggling and began to sniffle.
He put down the paddle and picked up the hairbrush. He paused to listen closely to her breathing. She wasn’t wheezing or in any kind of distress so he continued. She hated the hairbrush and with good reason. He was sure it stung like the devil. Connor began imparting the rest of the lesson, not sure whether he’d quit after one dozen strokes or if he’d have to give her two or possibly more. It all depended on her. Smack, smack, the hairbrush connected with her bottom over and over, red ovals blooming on her skin. Sylvie was sobbing loudly now as a fire ignited everywhere the brush landed. ‘When I tell you to do something. I expect you to do it. When I put you someplace, I expect to find you where I left you. It’s not rocket science. Why is that so hard for you to understand?’ He gave her four smart smacks to the area where her thighs met the curve of her bottom. Sylvie was screeching and wailing. If he didn’t know better he’d think he was killing her. Sylvie was being theatrical. Thanks to her, the whole compound probably knew what was happening up here. ‘Am I getting my message across?’ he asked in a no-nonsense tone. Connor waited for an answer, but she didn’t respond. The girl never gave an inch. She was as stubborn as the day was long. She’d yet to learn that he could keep this up a hell of a lot longer than she could. Her ass would give out before his arm would. ‘Am I to presume that your silence indicates defiance? I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sylvie. All it will get you is a blistered ass and an early bedtime every night for the next week. So you might want to rethink the attitude little girl before it causes your butt even more misery. Now. Once again. Am I getting my message across or should I continue this lesson?’
‘Yes, sir. I’m getting the message loud and clear.’ The words were spoken amid whimpers and snuffles.
‘Ah, we’re making progress. Now that wasn’t so hard was it? I think another dozen might help you remember since you seem a little slow on the uptake today. First, I think a little corner time is warranted.’ He helped her up and pointed to a corner on the far side of the room. ‘Hands at your sides and I better not see you rubbing. I want this spanking to soak in. You earned it. You wear it. Now go!’
She hurried to the corner without ever looking at him. Her ass was throbbing as she wedged herself against the walls.
Connor smiled as he watched her dancing on her toes. Shifting her weight from side to side, trying to ease the pain in her butt. He was pleased with his handiwork. He could feel his cock twitching. He loved seeing her like this. Hair tousled. Her ass red. Her behavior contrite. She looked so childlike standing there, obediently facing the corner, hands fidgeting, fighting the urge to rub her throbbing bottom. He had a wonderful evening planned for her tonight and had no desire to see it ruined by bad behavior. He stared at Sylvie, envisioning her with long white hair, her pert, red bottom a bit saggy, her skin wrinkled with age. Would he still be spanking her when she was eighty? Probably. Sylvie would still be Sylvie no matter how old she was. He didn’t anticipate her mellowing with age.
He was struck by something he hadn’t thought of before. He really wanted to grow old with this woman. That was scary. He’d never felt that way about anyone before, even Marisol. Connor liked to think that if she’d lived and they’d married, they would have stayed together. But there was no telling. Not really. They were both very selfish people. They were together because she fulfilled his needs and he hers. It was a relationship based on sensuality, lust, and mutual gratification. They lived for the moment and most of those moments had been spent indulging in, what some might call, their peculiar perversions. When they weren’t getting it on in the bedroom or engaging in BDSM play, they had little in common. She was obsessed with her career and he was obsessed with his. He had no doubts that Marisol loved him on some level. But not the way Sylvie did. Not unselfishly. Marisol would never have given him a second look if he hadn’t been wealthy. Like Seanna, Marisol loved all the trappings of wealth. Loved Manhattan. Loved dressing to the nines and going out on the town. She would never have been happy living in the mountain house. For the occasional vacation maybe, but not permanently. She craved the excitement, the hustle and bustle, of the city. And her career? She would never have given that up and left the city…even for him. She was a submissive, but only in the bedroom. It was different with Sylvie.
Sylvie waited in the corner, sniffling, her cheeks streaked with tears. She fisted her hands and tried to brush them away. But every time she did, another fell to replace it. She kept thinking about what he said. He was right of course. She was headstrong and impulsive. Sometimes she didn’t think, she just reacted. That’s what happened the night she’d left the city. Sylvie had been so angry at him; she wasn’t thinking straight. She’d just wanted to get away. Flee her prison and escape his rules and petty dictums. And look what happened…she’d nearly died! Her ass prickled and ached so bad, it was hard to keep from rubbing it. But she didn’t dare. He was mad enough at her already. She loved Connor, but hated this! She wasn’t his child. Why did he insist on treating her this way: stripping away her pride, humbling and humiliating her, making her feel like a fool? She was 26 years old. Old enough to know she didn’t want to take naps or go to bed early. She was an adult! She shouldn’t have to. She didn’t need for him to protect and keep her safe. She was quite capable of… On second thought, maybe the protection and safety stuff was OK, but the naps were a definite non-starter. Connor was reverting to type. Nice Connor had flown the coop and they were right back where they started with strict, overbearing Connor and his trusty hairbrush, roasting her ass. Not fun! She needed to have a serious discussion with him about this. They had to shit-can the spankings or this relationship was going nowhere. Whatever she’d agreed to…she was reneging on right now. She was going to put her foot down and tell him what was what!
It had been fifteen minutes already. She should be plenty contrite by now and inwardly dreading the rest of her punishment. ‘Sylvie, come here. I want to get this done and over with quickly so I can put your naughty ass down for a nap.’
Her brain was shouting demands. ‘Say something! Do something! Don’t let him treat you like this!’ But she didn’t utter a word and instead meekly returned to the bed.
When she came within range, he grabbed her hand and unceremoniously plopped her over his lap. Sylvie’s bottom cringed as Connor put his hand on it. Her skin was hot to the touch. She’d be sore tonight. But it couldn’t be helped. You could talk to Sylvie till you were blue in the face and it had no effect. Paddling her ass, however, worked when all else failed. Her brain was hardwired to her bottom. A red butt incentivized her. Made her see reason. Dispensing with words, he began raining a barrage of barehanded slaps to her sore, aching posterior. Sylvie stayed in place, whimpering with every smack. When he’d delivered all twelve he stopped. Instead of letting her up, Connor’s hand began rubbing circles on her throbbing bottom. That made her whimper all the more. When she quieted, he lifted her up and sat her down on his lap. She let out a yelp of protest the instant her stinging rump landed on his hard, well-muscled thighs. Then she felt something else hard. His cock. It was rigid. He’d positioned her so that it rested against the juncture of her thighs. He could feel her heat even through his jeans. Sylvie relished the feel of his manhood pressing against her Sore ass or not, she wanted him. How bad was that? But it was not to be.
‘To bed little one,’ he said, lifting her up and depositing her on the bed. She hissed when her ass made contact with the mattress. ‘Roll over on your tummy,’ he told her as he lifted the sheet to cover her. She spread her legs slightly as she flipped onto her belly. He could see moisture glinting on the soft pink petals between her legs. He tried to tamp down his desire, he didn’t have long to wait now, just a few more hours and she’d be his. He placed the sheet over her, then bent to gently kiss her cheek. ‘Sleep well, I have a big night planned for us: a candlelight dinner on the terrace, chilled champagne; and maybe, if you play your cards right, some dancing. We can enjoy the cool night air, listen to the lapping waves, and stare up at the moon and stars. What do you think? Sound good?’
She turned to look at him, eyes still wet with tears, a shy smile changing her expression from sad to happy. ‘For Valentine’s Day? We’re going to celebrate Valentine’s Day?’ She couldn’t have been more surprised.
‘We most certainly are.’
‘It sounds romantic. I thought you told me you don’t do romance.’
‘I don’t…usually. But I’ve decided to make an exception for you!’
‘I sounds…’ She hesitated a moment, searching his face, thinking about what just happened, ‘wonderful! Is that why I have to take a long nap?’ She didn’t understand Connor. He confounded her. One minute he was an overbearing bully, beating her ass. The next he was gentle and kind. Was it any wonder she was confused?
He nodded and watched her reaction.
She looked up at him guiltily. ‘I’m sorry I disobeyed you. I’m sorry I didn’t take my nap the way I was supposed to.’
‘I know,’ he said, unable to stop himself from grinning at her. ‘All is forgiven. Just see that it doesn’t happen again,’ he warned. ‘Now close your eyes and go to sleep.’
She laid her head on the pillow and shut her eyes.
Connor stood watching Sylvie breathe. A lump gathered in his throat. Two months ago he didn’t think this day would ever come. Yet here she was, walking and talking and healthy again. Still trying his patience, still as feisty and contrary as ever. Every breath she took was a miracle. He saw her shoulders relax as she drifted off. He smiled when he heard her softly snoring. She was sound asleep. She worked so hard on her recovery, trying to get her life back on track, that she was frequently cranky, over-tired, and on the verge of exhaustion. She needed rest and sleep, but she fought him every step of the way. Temper tantrums at bedtime. Hissy fits before naps. Perhaps he had become a bit overprotective and did treat her like a child at times, but who could blame him? He’d come so close to losing her. Connor hoped today’s spanking might make her more accepting of the rules, more amenable to taking naps and going to bed without her usual fuss and complaint, but he seriously doubted it. Who was he kidding? This was Sylvie he was talking about. He smiled. And he wouldn’t have her any other way!
