The Lover's Diaries

Settle Down

A/n this one includes Lotsa discipline spanking, no sexy spanks like I usually write. Feel free to skip. It's also REALLY long

"Hey, hey, no." Danny holds onto my upper arms, trying to get me to stop yelling and thrashing about. "Calm down."
"No!" I try to shake him off, inwardly knowing his grip could hold down crashing waves.
"Hey," he tries to get me to stop, but still to no avail. Finally, he brings his hand up and reaches behind me, placing an unnecessarily hard smack on my backside. "Sit," he forces me to sit on the couch.
I try to hide my surprise as I make my expression go from utter rage to boiling anger. I cross my arms, showcasing I'm having none of this shit.
"You're going to calm down-"
"I am not going to calm down!" I start to walk away when I feel Danny's hand grip my wrist. He lands another loud smack to my backside, this time the opposite cheek, and harder. I frown deeply, but sit back down on the sofa. I cross my arms once again, my face set in What that good-for- nothing brother-in-law calls my "bitch mode".
"You know I don't like spanking you outside of the bedroom, but it seems that that's the only way you'll listen."
"I am not gonna calm down." I nearly hiss, not caring what anybody says. "How dare he? How. Freakin' dare. He?! Accusing me of-of- of.... adultery!" I spit out the word as if it was poison being forced down my throat. "I would never do that!"
"I know you wouldn't. And..... I know you didn't." I could tell he didn't mean for it to come out questioning, or accusatory, or whatever the hell that tone is that came from his lips. But I still persist with my side.
"Damn right, I wouldn't!" The currently furious me stands up, somewhat surprising my husband. "I am not an adulterer!" I turn to face him, jabbing a finger into my chest. "And I'm gonna give that ass a piece of my mind!" I start walking towards the exit, ready to give that ass what he always asks for.
"Oh no, you don't!" I hear Danny stand up and, before I know it, he catches me by my waist just as I storm through the door.
"Let go of me!" I wiggle about in his embrace; I can see the family from the dinning room, all eyes on me. I thrash about some more, angry he is embarrassing me like this. I'm angrier still when he walks into his father's study. He pins me against the wall, my back to his front. Ordinarily, this position would be fun, but not now. Now, it's annoying and it's irritating.
"Settle down," Danny commands, his tone soft, yet full of that unmistakable stern voice he uses when the kids are in deep trouble.
I am defiant, though; I thrash about still, trying to throw him off, to get his grip to loosen. Still, his hands press tightly against my upper arms, and I know there would be bruising. Again, not from the normal circumstances from such they come.
"Settle. Down." He nearly growls that time.
I think about it for a few seconds, and try one more time to thwart his advantage of me. He just has to be a top-notch cop and an ex-marine. If he was an account, I bet I could get him off me. But he's not, and his muscles- which are usually turning me on- are successfully pinning me to the wall.
He shoves his knee between my thighs, "Linda. Calm. Down."
"Why should I?! He should be getting the medieval treatment, not me!"
His grip loosens slightly, "the medieval treatment?"
"Yes, dog Dammit!"
"Is that what you think this is?"
I scoff, "obviously." I bring my shoulder back, trying to get him off.
Danny sighs, "I've had just about enough of you today."
Did I mention I had been being a down right bitch all day long? And on a Sunday with family, to boot.
"So ignore me! Ugh!"
"I've been doing that all day. And where has that gotten me?" His grip tightens once again, "hm?"
When his fingers dig into my skin, I slowly realize exactly how big of a hole I've dug myself into. I want to answer with something snarky, but I can't think of anything. Until, "a one-way ticket to jail for abuse?"
He lets go of me, and for a split second, I think I can escape. That is, until he swiftly pulls my pants down, unbuttoning the button in the same motion. The red pants fall to my ankles, and I close my eyes. I haven't been spanked for being bad in a long time. The bedroom bad is a completely different thing- it has different connotations, different moods, different everything..... Leave it to the Reagans to believe in domestic discipline.
Danny's hand makes contact with my ass, the smack not as loud as the previous two. Another one lands on the other side, and, foolishly, I start to think it won't be bad. Two more snacks to each cheek, and I'm convinced I can survive this one.
My eyes widen as my underwear gets pushed down. I decide to be an idiot again, and tightly press my thighs together to keep the panties from going to the floor. A loud smack lands to both my thighs, but I keep them pressed together. Three smacks to my left thigh, three smacks to my right thigh.
Danny forces them open, and pushes my panties down to the floor with my pants. In hindsight, I should've listened to him in the first place. He yanks me to the chair, and I'm suddenly staring at the floor, my pants and underwear at the base of the window. I close my eyes, waiting for the next smack, my cheeks flushed red. I only date lift my head when I feel his hand doing something next to my bum. I can't see, and, with a huff of annoyance, I look back down again.
I let out a yelp when some foreign object makes contact with my thighs. He smacks my sit spot- smack, smack, smack. I realize it's his belt, and I wonder how I got myself into this situation. Suddenly, I feel even more embarrassed, like someone's watching. But I chalk that up to the fact that there are ten people in the other room.
Smack, smack. Smack smack smack echoes through the room as I feel my right butt cheek begin to burn. He repeats the smacks, with just as much force, on the other side. His leg is already over my legs, and I feel the tears well in my eyes. Five more hard slaps land on my bright red skin- two to my right ass cheek, two to my left. And the final big, hard, sickening slap to my sit spot. I've lots count how many times he had spanked me in that study.
"Get up," Danny's voice is no longer soft of friendly.
I swallow, standing up, my backside to the door. My face flushed deeply, as my pubic region is on display for him- usually a welcoming sight. The tears brim my eyes, daring to fall. I refuse to cry, though.
"I really don't appreciate your behavior. You're thirty years old, for Pete's sake! You shouldn't be acting like a three year old!"
I don't say anything, just cross my arms over my chest.
"Put your clothes on." He raises an eyebrow when I don't move. "Do you want me to parade you in there, and let everybody see what a bad girl you've been?"
Still, I don't answer. I just look away from him.
I can hear the shrug, "fine. You asked for it." He grabbed my hand, turning me around while he stands up. He starts pushing me towards the doorway, "hey, everyone!"
"No! No!" I yell, seeing the jackass sitting at the table, eyeing my womanhood.
"Never mind!" He steers next back in the room, and almost slams me onto the wooden table.
My backside immediately feels like it's on fire. I sigh, "I'm sorry; I don't know what got into me. Please don't show me to your family- our family- half naked. Please!"
Danny looks as though he is seriously considering doing just that, despite my pleas. I sometimes wonder about that man. "Fine. Since you asked nicely. But next time.... next time, it's gonna be a public spectacle. Understood?"
"Yes, yes. I understand."
"Good. Put your clothes on." He leaves me alone to contemplate my actions. I walk to the window, and I see my reflection. I pick up my clothes and turn around, trying to see the angry red marks on my backside and thighs. I rub my butt, letting some tears slip from my eyes. I get dressed, sit down at the dining room table, butt and thighs ablaze. Not to mention my cheeks, and I stare down into my food. No one asks what happened, or asks anything about it, which I'm glad for.
The rest of dinner goes by, and almost immediately we leave to go home. Part of my punishment, I guess. Once home, I put the kids to bed- Danny is still downstairs, checking locks and shit. I lie in bed on my stomach, my backside still stinging from earlier. I hear the door open, and I pretend to be asleep.
The bed dips, and Danny sighs. "You know I don't like doing that."
I chew my lip, "I know."
"So why make me do it?"
I feel tears, "I don't know."
"Linda.... you're a very pleasant woman. You're pretty and funny and just the right amount of crazy and very smart..... so why did you act like that? Why have random acts of stupidity?"
"I don't know."
"That's not an answer."
"Of course it's an answer!" I hate how my voice is thick with tears.
Danny places his hand on my shoulder, and I can almost see the sorrow in his eyes. He's not sorry for what he did, oh no. He's sorry that I'm hurting, for whatever reason, I'm not even sure of.
"It's just.... he gets me so mad. And some- sometimes, I lose touch with- with re- re-al- reality."
"Baby, I'm not mad that you got mad. Hell, I was mad, too. I'm disappointed because you acted out. You're supposed to be.... I don't know. Calm? Cool Collected? And mostly, you are. Just- when it comes to him-"
I unintentionally let out a large sob, clutching the sheets beneath my fists.
I feel Danny stand up and move around the room. There's shuffling and a closing of a drawer, and then he's in front of me, hand back on my shoulder. "I need you to take your pants and underwear off for me."
I lift my head and look at him, images bleary through the tears. He holds up some aloe cream and smiled a little.
"You shouldn't have a sore ass when sitting in a hard, porcelain tub."
"What?" It's still early enough for a calming bath. Since the kids are little (Jack's only four and Sean's barely a year) it's only seven o'clock.
He pushes the air out of my face. "I'll admit, I was a little too rough on you. You really didn't deserve that many whacks. I still don't agree with your behavior, but.... it was kinda jerky of me for doing that many. So... you get a reward for dealing with my lapse in sanity."
I sniffle, propping myself up on elbows. "Really?" My voice is small and quiet.
"Really really." He helps me up, and for the first time since the spankings, I smile. We got to the en-suite where he's a complete and utter gentleman to me. If punishments meant bath time afterwards.... well. Maybe I'd have to act out a little more often.