of discomfort, she pushed herself up from the table.
"Step out of your bloomers."
After obeying, she waited for further instructions.
"You may do your churning."
"Oh, um, okay." She didn't know whether to mention that his figging, while highly embarrassing, wasn't that uncomfortable. In fact, if not for the knobbly part forcing her cheeks to remain slightly apart, she wouldn't have known she was being punished. Deciding that he'd wouldn't appreciate learning that his plan hadn't worked, she decided he'd rather think she was giving quiet contemplation to her punishment. Walking to the churn, she lifted the paddle and began to move it up and down.
Richard washed his hands, poured a cup of coffee, and took a seat at the table.
"Um, aren't you going to do chores?" she asked him.
"Matthew and Roger can start without me. Right now, I have a little wife to tend to."
Not knowing what to say, and sure she didn't particularly want to know what his last statement alluded to, she simply nodded and continued to move the dash. It usually took about thirty minutes before she felt the beginning of resistance that signaled the cream was solidifying into butter. She could remain quiet and obediently work for that long.
* * * * *
Richard knew the moment the root began to work. He was well attuned to his wife's responses and knew she was wondering what he'd been thinking after placing the root inside her. He'd watched as Anna began to move the dash up and down. She'd sent him a few quick glances and he'd had to bite back his smile. No doubt existed that she was questioning his sanity. Well, she'd learn that there were far more creative ways to discipline a wife than spanking.
He watched as she stiffened and the churning came to a complete stop.
"Oh!"
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Um, no." She began to churn again, though much more slowly. He gave her a few more minutes and then stood and walked to the kitchen to refill his cup. From his position, he could see a fine bead of sweat on her forehead, and that her lips were set in a thin line.
"Is there resistance?"
Her head whipped towards him. "Resistance?"
"In the cream. I thought it took longer than this to feel resistance. You seem to be having trouble with moving the dash."
She shook her head and began lifting the dash higher and practically slamming it down. He wondered if she were imagining it was his body she was pounding. That thought had him thinking about other things, but those would have to wait until this little lesson was completed.
"Careful, honey, you don't want to go past butter into buttermilk." The dash slowed just a bit but he saw that her feet were shuffling on the floor. He put the pot back onto the stove and took a sip of his coffee. When she moaned, he walked to stand before her.
"Would you rather sit and churn?" he asked.
"No!"
"No reason to snap at me, Annabelle. I was simply suggesting that perhaps a different position might help."
"Help? The only thing that will help, Richard Andrews, is if this horrid root falls out of my bottom!"
He chuckled and reached around to press against her backside. She groaned as he unerringly found the plug and gave it a little push. "I suggest you keep your plug well seated, young lady. After all, you are being punished."
"Can't you just spank me? Please?"
He patted her bottom. "Nope."
"But, Richard, it burns."
"Then it is doing a proper job."
"How long do I have to-to hold it?"
"Until I'm quite certain you've learned the lesson needed."
She moaned and shuffled her feet apart a bit further. "But…"
"Finish churning, Anna. It stays until you are done. Perhaps by the time you're finished, you'll be able to tell me what lesson you've learned." He bent to kiss her cheek and then went to check on Johnny.
When he returned, she was practically dancing, her bottom wagging up and down and back and forth while the dash moved up and down. When she saw him, she came to a complete stop, but it was only a minute or two
"Step out of your bloomers."
After obeying, she waited for further instructions.
"You may do your churning."
"Oh, um, okay." She didn't know whether to mention that his figging, while highly embarrassing, wasn't that uncomfortable. In fact, if not for the knobbly part forcing her cheeks to remain slightly apart, she wouldn't have known she was being punished. Deciding that he'd wouldn't appreciate learning that his plan hadn't worked, she decided he'd rather think she was giving quiet contemplation to her punishment. Walking to the churn, she lifted the paddle and began to move it up and down.
Richard washed his hands, poured a cup of coffee, and took a seat at the table.
"Um, aren't you going to do chores?" she asked him.
"Matthew and Roger can start without me. Right now, I have a little wife to tend to."
Not knowing what to say, and sure she didn't particularly want to know what his last statement alluded to, she simply nodded and continued to move the dash. It usually took about thirty minutes before she felt the beginning of resistance that signaled the cream was solidifying into butter. She could remain quiet and obediently work for that long.
* * * * *
Richard knew the moment the root began to work. He was well attuned to his wife's responses and knew she was wondering what he'd been thinking after placing the root inside her. He'd watched as Anna began to move the dash up and down. She'd sent him a few quick glances and he'd had to bite back his smile. No doubt existed that she was questioning his sanity. Well, she'd learn that there were far more creative ways to discipline a wife than spanking.
He watched as she stiffened and the churning came to a complete stop.
"Oh!"
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"Um, no." She began to churn again, though much more slowly. He gave her a few more minutes and then stood and walked to the kitchen to refill his cup. From his position, he could see a fine bead of sweat on her forehead, and that her lips were set in a thin line.
"Is there resistance?"
Her head whipped towards him. "Resistance?"
"In the cream. I thought it took longer than this to feel resistance. You seem to be having trouble with moving the dash."
She shook her head and began lifting the dash higher and practically slamming it down. He wondered if she were imagining it was his body she was pounding. That thought had him thinking about other things, but those would have to wait until this little lesson was completed.
"Careful, honey, you don't want to go past butter into buttermilk." The dash slowed just a bit but he saw that her feet were shuffling on the floor. He put the pot back onto the stove and took a sip of his coffee. When she moaned, he walked to stand before her.
"Would you rather sit and churn?" he asked.
"No!"
"No reason to snap at me, Annabelle. I was simply suggesting that perhaps a different position might help."
"Help? The only thing that will help, Richard Andrews, is if this horrid root falls out of my bottom!"
He chuckled and reached around to press against her backside. She groaned as he unerringly found the plug and gave it a little push. "I suggest you keep your plug well seated, young lady. After all, you are being punished."
"Can't you just spank me? Please?"
He patted her bottom. "Nope."
"But, Richard, it burns."
"Then it is doing a proper job."
"How long do I have to-to hold it?"
"Until I'm quite certain you've learned the lesson needed."
She moaned and shuffled her feet apart a bit further. "But…"
"Finish churning, Anna. It stays until you are done. Perhaps by the time you're finished, you'll be able to tell me what lesson you've learned." He bent to kiss her cheek and then went to check on Johnny.
When he returned, she was practically dancing, her bottom wagging up and down and back and forth while the dash moved up and down. When she saw him, she came to a complete stop, but it was only a minute or two
Similar Books
