Alexander.”
“ The Elizabeth Alexander? The divorce lawyer?” Melania gaped at Liz, unable to connect this kind, calm, elegant woman with the infamous female attorney she’d read about in the media. That woman reportedly had her own set of testicles in addition to those she collected from the ex-husbands of her clients, earning her the moniker “the Bitch with Balls.”
“I’m a huge champion of women’s rights,” Liz said. “Women should have the right to choose what makes them happy and fulfilled—including being on the receiving end of a spanking if that’s what they want. It’s what I want.” Her mouth quirked with humor. “Not always at the moment it occurs, but overall, yes. Furthermore”—she paused, glancing at Candi—“I’ve seen the positive effects on other women who have chosen domestic discipline as a lifestyle.”
“I don’t see how a spanking will make me happy.” Melania flipped her hair away from her face. If the spanking she’d received offered any indication, it would have the opposite effect.
“As women, we juggle many things. But sometimes we drop the ball. Despite our best intensions, we can lose sight of what’s important, and we get off track. When things get out of whack, a whack puts us back in order.” Liz smoothed her hair behind her ear.
Melania rubbed her temples. “You make us sound like those complicated photocopiers that do everything but get jammed because they’re so complex.”
“That’s not a bad analogy,” Liz said.
“A spanking presses our Reset button,” Candi added.
“Exactly.” Liz nodded. “In the working world, I battle as aggressively as any man. When I go home, I don’t want to fight anymore. I want Otis to take over and be in charge. I need that balance in my life.”
“Otis really spanks you? And Tucker?” Melania still couldn’t wrap her mind around the revelations. She toyed with her wedding ring. “Often?”
“As often as required, but it varies,” Liz said. “I hadn’t been spanked in months, but I got one last week after a frustrating day in court. My client’s attorney had acted like a real a-hole, and it put me in a bitchy mood. Normally I leave the negativity at the office or I work it off at the gym, but I brought the mood home with me. Otis and I were making dinner together, and I’d mouthed off to him about something. He let a few snide comments pass, but then he took me by the hand, bent me over the kitchen island, and readjusted my attitude with a spatula.” She laughed. “I took a doughnut pillow with me to court the next day and told everyone my sciatica was acting up.”
Ordinarily Melania wouldn’t have asked the women such personal questions, but she felt an intimacy born out of a unique shared experience. No one but someone who had been spanked by one’s husband could understand. Heck, she’d experienced it and still couldn’t grasp it. She sensed the women had her best interests at heart. And she was damn curious too.
She looked at Candi. Perky, smiling, seemingly happy Candi with the husband who liked to clown around. “How…how often do you get spanked?”
“Well, I’m on maintenance, so we agreed on at least once a month,” she answered.
“Maintenance?” Melania frowned.
Candi bobbed her head. “I get regularly scheduled spankings.”
Melania blinked. “You’re kidding. He spanks you for no reason?” Being punished was bad enough. Getting a spanking when you did nothing to deserve it was crazy. No—it was all crazy.
“There is a reason,” Candi insisted. “It’s good discipline. It reminds me to watch my mouth, show respect, and it reinforces that Tucker is in charge. It’s akin to exercising every day instead of only when you want to lose weight.” She grinned. “Or like eating fiber. It keeps me regular.”
Melania didn’t want to judge anyone’s practice, no matter how painfully ridiculous it was. However, she wanted to understand. Her marriage depended on it.
“ The Elizabeth Alexander? The divorce lawyer?” Melania gaped at Liz, unable to connect this kind, calm, elegant woman with the infamous female attorney she’d read about in the media. That woman reportedly had her own set of testicles in addition to those she collected from the ex-husbands of her clients, earning her the moniker “the Bitch with Balls.”
“I’m a huge champion of women’s rights,” Liz said. “Women should have the right to choose what makes them happy and fulfilled—including being on the receiving end of a spanking if that’s what they want. It’s what I want.” Her mouth quirked with humor. “Not always at the moment it occurs, but overall, yes. Furthermore”—she paused, glancing at Candi—“I’ve seen the positive effects on other women who have chosen domestic discipline as a lifestyle.”
“I don’t see how a spanking will make me happy.” Melania flipped her hair away from her face. If the spanking she’d received offered any indication, it would have the opposite effect.
“As women, we juggle many things. But sometimes we drop the ball. Despite our best intensions, we can lose sight of what’s important, and we get off track. When things get out of whack, a whack puts us back in order.” Liz smoothed her hair behind her ear.
Melania rubbed her temples. “You make us sound like those complicated photocopiers that do everything but get jammed because they’re so complex.”
“That’s not a bad analogy,” Liz said.
“A spanking presses our Reset button,” Candi added.
“Exactly.” Liz nodded. “In the working world, I battle as aggressively as any man. When I go home, I don’t want to fight anymore. I want Otis to take over and be in charge. I need that balance in my life.”
“Otis really spanks you? And Tucker?” Melania still couldn’t wrap her mind around the revelations. She toyed with her wedding ring. “Often?”
“As often as required, but it varies,” Liz said. “I hadn’t been spanked in months, but I got one last week after a frustrating day in court. My client’s attorney had acted like a real a-hole, and it put me in a bitchy mood. Normally I leave the negativity at the office or I work it off at the gym, but I brought the mood home with me. Otis and I were making dinner together, and I’d mouthed off to him about something. He let a few snide comments pass, but then he took me by the hand, bent me over the kitchen island, and readjusted my attitude with a spatula.” She laughed. “I took a doughnut pillow with me to court the next day and told everyone my sciatica was acting up.”
Ordinarily Melania wouldn’t have asked the women such personal questions, but she felt an intimacy born out of a unique shared experience. No one but someone who had been spanked by one’s husband could understand. Heck, she’d experienced it and still couldn’t grasp it. She sensed the women had her best interests at heart. And she was damn curious too.
She looked at Candi. Perky, smiling, seemingly happy Candi with the husband who liked to clown around. “How…how often do you get spanked?”
“Well, I’m on maintenance, so we agreed on at least once a month,” she answered.
“Maintenance?” Melania frowned.
Candi bobbed her head. “I get regularly scheduled spankings.”
Melania blinked. “You’re kidding. He spanks you for no reason?” Being punished was bad enough. Getting a spanking when you did nothing to deserve it was crazy. No—it was all crazy.
“There is a reason,” Candi insisted. “It’s good discipline. It reminds me to watch my mouth, show respect, and it reinforces that Tucker is in charge. It’s akin to exercising every day instead of only when you want to lose weight.” She grinned. “Or like eating fiber. It keeps me regular.”
Melania didn’t want to judge anyone’s practice, no matter how painfully ridiculous it was. However, she wanted to understand. Her marriage depended on it.
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