Auxiliary.”
Melania rested her hands on her hips. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
“The Society reflects the lifestyle and practices of its membership,” Liz said carefully. “These are men who rule their homes with…an open hand.”
Melania didn’t know what was worse: to think she was alone in having been spanked by her husband, or to find out there were many others, but that they thought it was normal and acceptable. Sure, she had thought it was normal and acceptable—but only until she had experienced it.
“You’re really okay with being spanked?” Melania slumped against the counter and stared at the two women.
Candi bobbed her head as if she’d just been asked if she liked chocolate or cheesecake.
“More than okay. We embrace it,” Liz said.
“What right does a husband have to be the spanker while the wife is the spankee? Not everything a man does is perfect. Why does the wife get spanked if she does something wrong, but the husband gets a free ride?” Melania had a clearer picture of domestic discipline now.
“Domestic discipline is consensual. It’s something that is agreed upon in advance by the husband and wife,” Liz said.
I hadn’t agreed to it, Melania thought with irritation. Well, she had, but she hadn’t known what she was agreeing to. But whose fault is that? a little voice inside reminded.
“There aren’t any free rides.” Candi shook her head. “Tucker and I were friends before we became husband and wife, and we’re still friends. But a ship can’t have two captains. When disagreements arise as to what course to take, by the time you vote, hash it out, and come to a decision, you’ve run the ship aground. Spanking is only one small part of a domestic discipline marriage. It also entails love, respect, leadership, and obedience. When Tucker spanks me, it reinforces my respect for him and reasserts his role as head of our home. Delivering a spanking reminds Tucker he’s making decisions for both of us.”
Candi made it sound as if the man bore the heavier burden. Melania wasn’t buying it. “Spanking hurts!” she protested.
Candi giggled. “Like the dickens.” She did a half pivot and slapped her ample, pear-shaped bottom. “And when you have as much junk in the trunk as I do, that’s a lot of aching real estate!”
“If it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t get your attention, would it?” Liz curved her mouth wryly. “The consequences need to be as great or greater than the infraction, or it has no effect on behavior.”
Melania recalled her initial reaction to the first few light taps and to the evening when Jared had spanked her erotically. Had that been the sum total of the spanking, it would not have deterred her from defying Jared again. Now she could barely sit. She didn’t want to be paddled at all, but couldn’t there be a happy medium between the extremes?
Liz studied Melania’s face. “You don’t look convinced.”
Talk about an understatement. Melania took a breath. “I want Jared to be in charge. I need a strong husband, a man who loves me but who won’t let me take advantage. I want a man who brings out the best in me. But I don’t think I can accept spanking. It’s archaic. Aren’t we independent career women? Why does a man get to spank his wife, but not the other way around?” She gestured forcefully. “Marriage should be a partnership, not a dictatorship.” Melania looked from Liz to Candi.
“Some men are spanked by their wives, but that’s not our way—the way of Rod and Cane,” Liz said. “You’re right about marriage being a partnership of equals. But…” She paused. “While men and women are equal in value and worth, we’re different physically and emotionally. We each play distinct roles in a marriage and have needs unique to our sex.”
Liz leaned a hip against the counter. “Melania, you know me as Liz Davenport. That’s my legal, married name. But my maiden name—my professional name—is Elizabeth
Melania rested her hands on her hips. “That doesn’t sound fair.”
“The Society reflects the lifestyle and practices of its membership,” Liz said carefully. “These are men who rule their homes with…an open hand.”
Melania didn’t know what was worse: to think she was alone in having been spanked by her husband, or to find out there were many others, but that they thought it was normal and acceptable. Sure, she had thought it was normal and acceptable—but only until she had experienced it.
“You’re really okay with being spanked?” Melania slumped against the counter and stared at the two women.
Candi bobbed her head as if she’d just been asked if she liked chocolate or cheesecake.
“More than okay. We embrace it,” Liz said.
“What right does a husband have to be the spanker while the wife is the spankee? Not everything a man does is perfect. Why does the wife get spanked if she does something wrong, but the husband gets a free ride?” Melania had a clearer picture of domestic discipline now.
“Domestic discipline is consensual. It’s something that is agreed upon in advance by the husband and wife,” Liz said.
I hadn’t agreed to it, Melania thought with irritation. Well, she had, but she hadn’t known what she was agreeing to. But whose fault is that? a little voice inside reminded.
“There aren’t any free rides.” Candi shook her head. “Tucker and I were friends before we became husband and wife, and we’re still friends. But a ship can’t have two captains. When disagreements arise as to what course to take, by the time you vote, hash it out, and come to a decision, you’ve run the ship aground. Spanking is only one small part of a domestic discipline marriage. It also entails love, respect, leadership, and obedience. When Tucker spanks me, it reinforces my respect for him and reasserts his role as head of our home. Delivering a spanking reminds Tucker he’s making decisions for both of us.”
Candi made it sound as if the man bore the heavier burden. Melania wasn’t buying it. “Spanking hurts!” she protested.
Candi giggled. “Like the dickens.” She did a half pivot and slapped her ample, pear-shaped bottom. “And when you have as much junk in the trunk as I do, that’s a lot of aching real estate!”
“If it didn’t hurt, it wouldn’t get your attention, would it?” Liz curved her mouth wryly. “The consequences need to be as great or greater than the infraction, or it has no effect on behavior.”
Melania recalled her initial reaction to the first few light taps and to the evening when Jared had spanked her erotically. Had that been the sum total of the spanking, it would not have deterred her from defying Jared again. Now she could barely sit. She didn’t want to be paddled at all, but couldn’t there be a happy medium between the extremes?
Liz studied Melania’s face. “You don’t look convinced.”
Talk about an understatement. Melania took a breath. “I want Jared to be in charge. I need a strong husband, a man who loves me but who won’t let me take advantage. I want a man who brings out the best in me. But I don’t think I can accept spanking. It’s archaic. Aren’t we independent career women? Why does a man get to spank his wife, but not the other way around?” She gestured forcefully. “Marriage should be a partnership, not a dictatorship.” Melania looked from Liz to Candi.
“Some men are spanked by their wives, but that’s not our way—the way of Rod and Cane,” Liz said. “You’re right about marriage being a partnership of equals. But…” She paused. “While men and women are equal in value and worth, we’re different physically and emotionally. We each play distinct roles in a marriage and have needs unique to our sex.”
Liz leaned a hip against the counter. “Melania, you know me as Liz Davenport. That’s my legal, married name. But my maiden name—my professional name—is Elizabeth
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