by Rue Chapman
Natalie squealed as David's hand slapped down hard on her wriggling bottom. Normally he enjoyed the view of her full cheeks jiggling over his knee, pale thighs kicking as he delivered a well-deserved spanking. But tonight there was no time to savour that pleasure, he needed to finish the job as briskly and efficiently as possible.
"Are you going to stop carrying on and get ready?" The steady beat of his hand punctuated his question.
Natalie's answer wasn't so clear, but her meaning was like crystal. She was definitely not feeling very compliant.
David sighed. Time for a shortcut to a more reasonable frame of mind. Luckily (or not, depending on your point of view) one wildly kicking foot had thrown off its slipper, which had landed conveniently close. David rolled his wife's white lace panties down to her knees, then pushed her pink robe further up out of the way. A good workman always prepares for the task.
The first slap of the slipper was a stinging whack that set Natalie wriggling even more wildly, her bright red hair bouncing in a cloud around her head. David didn't bother with more discussion, he just concentrated on painting a fiery red glow across her bottom cheeks. If she couldn't sit comfortably tonight, that might remind her to behave - at least, that was his theory. Sadly, theory and reality often don't coincide, but a man can hope.
Natalie squealed and kicked, she shouted, she wriggled and squirmed. She was in every way a young lady receiving a good, thorough spanking.
In every way but one. A good spanking ends with a red hot bottom and a slightly tearful, very sorry young lady who promises to behave properly forever. And usually, after a good spanking, that would be Natalie. But not tonight. Tonight she yelled, she shrieked, she raged - and the word 'sorry', the promise of being good forever, wasn't heard.
But all good things must come to an end. And Natalie's end was a cheerful crimson that promised a good reminder whenever she tried to sit down, for a day or so at least. Her wails were more miserable, and less hostile, which David knew was the best he could hope for in the time available. So at last the slipper stopped doing the dance of the fiery sting all over her bottom. David leaned back, taking a well-earned rest.
"Now, you will get dressed, and you will be ready to leave this house with me in twenty minutes, and you will behave yourself at the party tonight. Is that clear?" Wisely he didn't wait for an answer, he stood up - dumping his bundle of resentment onto the carpet - and strode manfully out of the room, "Twenty minutes. Or I'll blister your sweet bottom every night for a week. Get moving."
Natalie glared at his departing back. She'd have thrown something at him, but just at that moment her hands were too busy trying to rub the fierce sting away. She muttered some highly uncomplimentary comments about her husband and his ancestry as she struggled to her feet.
Twenty minutes later Natalie flounced down the stairs. Or, at least, she tried to flounce, but it's not easy to get a good flounce going when your bottom hurts at every bounce.
David surveyed his better half. "I like the outfit. But lose the pout. Come on, or we'll be late."
"You liked this outfit last year too. And on the four other occasions that I've worn it since." Natalie smoothed the skirt of her black dress, watching the patterned beading on the bodice as it caught the light.
"Pretty and frugal - what a wonderful wife I have."
Natalie muttered something about the less than wonderful husband she had. David wisely chose not to hear.
It was quiet in the car. David drove. Natalie tried to find a comfortable spot on the seat. And fumed.
"You keep on sulking and you'll have an even hotter bottom. You're going to behave yourself tonight."
"I'm not sulking. I just don't feel like talking."
"Fine. Just remember what will happen if you carry on like this at the party."
It was a very quiet trip after that.
The party was in full swing when they arrived. Every year David's parents threw a big party to celebrate their wedding anniversary. They'd got married on Valentine's Day, and David's mother always said it was the most romantic day of the year. David was from a large family, and when his parents entertained they expected as many as possible of their children to attend, plus partners, as well as an assortment of cousins, aunts and uncles. Also friends from church, most of the important people from the town, business associates, clients... this party was work as well as pleasure.
Not that Natalie expected much pleasure.
She managed to smile politely as her parents-in-law greeted them - they were nice people, even if they had produced a son who was an arrogant, unfeeling creep. She said hello cordially to several of her husband's five sisters, plus their husbands, and an assortment of aunts, uncles and cousins.
Naturally, after greeting their hosts, and assorted sisters and brothers in law, David started to circulate and greet people. Natalie was towed along behind him, like a reluctant puppy on a short leash.
Suddenly a blur of pink exploded towards them.
"David!" Cindi hurled herself into his arms. "Oh, it's so good to see you - I didn't think you'd make it!"
Cindi.
The town had several wealthy and important families, but two of them were the recognised leaders. The Carlisles, David's parents, headed one powerful and respected clan. The Massingtons led the other. The Carlisles had five daughters, and one son. The Massingtons had one daughter. Cindi was, naturally, a spoilt and overindulged little madam.
To the delight of both families, Cindi and David had become engaged. Their marriage would unite the two families - Romeo and Juliet without the feuding, the dramatic deaths, and the flamboyant dance number. But then the engagement somehow wasn't on any more, Cindi was engaged to one man after another but never married anyone, and after a few years of waiting David met Natalie, they had a whirlwind courtship and she became Mrs David Carlisle.
Natalie did not like Cindi. This feeling was returned in full. She'd been married to David for just over a year, and she'd been in an undeclared war with Cindi for the whole time. Every social event was one more skirmish.
Natalie watched as a tight pink satin dress, and its tight pink contents, wriggled all over her husband.
After a moment spent on this happy reunion Cindi glanced to one side. "Oh, Natalie, you're here."
"No, this is a cleverly crafted optical illusion. I'm actually home reading a good book. Has anyone explained reading to you?"
Cindi smiled sweetly. "And don't you look nice - I've always liked that dress."
Natalie's smile was double saccharine as she looked at Cindi's generous cleavage, displayed to full advantage in the rather tight, low-cut pink satin. "I'm one of those lucky women who stay the same size. I see you're still wearing the same size, too - well, almost wearing it. Some of us not only keep on wearing the same size, but actually fit into it."
Luckily David's attention wasn't on his sweet wife - he'd been distracted by one of his brothers in law. As the men wandered away discussing fishing trips the two women faced each other, showing those needle-sharp smiles women wear when in mortal combat.
Cindi glanced at her own prominent assets, with a satisfied grin. "Mother Nature has been more generous to some of us than others."
Natalie hitched the girls a bit higher. "And some of us don't feel the need to leave all our assets on display. But then, some of us have a happy marriage, and aren't desperate to catch a husband." She glared at her happy husband, currently deep in a discussion of which fishing spots were the best, and had a fast fantasy about trussing him up and dropping him into one of those deep, dark pools. "Yes, some of us are very happy."
Cindi looked at the fishermen. "You're right, it's so good to see poor David looking happy. For a change."
"For a... " Natalie gave a low hiss. "In a marriage, there are so many special, private, happy things that are just for the two people involved. But you wouldn't know about that, would you dear. It was such a shame that you and... what was his name? Peter? Paul? Whoever it was, such a shame you two broke up. He was your fourth fiancé, wasn't he? Or was it fifth? Such a pity you can't get one to stick around for the wedding."
"Patrick. Third. And I wasn't dumped, I got rid of him."
"Short attention span? You'll be running out of prospects at this rate - what a pity we don't live in a larger town."
"I'm not desperate enough to grab the first chance I get for a husband." Cindi's smile could cut glass.
"Or the second, or the third... Don't worry, dear, one day you'll find one who can't outrun you."
"I don't need a man to give me an identity. But then I suppose marrying up is a way of escaping your background, if you don't have any roots you can be proud of."
"And I suppose if you have no ambition or talent, all you have to be proud of is your family name."
A small crowd had gathered, scenting blood. Two of David's sisters bravely leapt into the fray, scooping Cindi up and carrying her off, claiming an urgent need to discuss hairstyles. Natalie headed for the bar, grabbed a glass of wine and tossed it back in one quick movement, then scooped up a second one. A large dark cloud appeared beside her. "That'll be your last. Two glasses of wine, then you'll stick to the fruit punch."
Natalie gulped the second glass down. "Oh of course, I wouldn't want to embarrass my loving husband. Even if he does abandon me to be attacked by the hellcat."
A large hand patted her tender bottom. "I warned you - behave, or you'll be over my knee every night for a week. There's people here I need to talk to - some of my clients want a word, and I'm hoping to pick up a few new customers. So just have fun and keep out of trouble for a while."
"Oh fine, don't worry about me. Your wife's happiness isn't nearly as important as selling a couple more bags of horse manure."
David, owner of the largest and most successful garden centre in the state, went off to discuss a very attractive landscaping contract with a property developer. He spared one more warning glance towards the light of his life, and wondered why women always have to make such a fuss about things. Didn't women like going to parties?
Natalie defiantly gulped down a third glass of wine, then held the table to steady herself. She didn't usually drink much, and it was probably a bad idea to have all that wine on an empty stomach. She started weaving unsteadily towards the buffet table.
A pink blur interrupted her travels. "All alone? I see poor David has escaped to find more interesting company."
"Oh Cindi, how nice to see you again. Did you run out of men to chase?"
"Some women don't need to chase men. But I suppose if you don't have much to offer, you have to grab at any chance to get ahead. Like the way you grabbed at David."
"And sometimes no amount of money is enough to attract a husband. Maybe your parents should offer a set of steak knives too?"
"I don't need to bribe anyone to marry me. I can have anyone I want!"
"Over and over again if the gossip is true."
"At least I didn't sell myself to the highest bidder."
"Awww poor Cindi, didn't anyone think you were worth a bid?"
Natalie navigated rather unsteadily towards the buffet table. Cindi followed, almost hissing in fury. "He won't put up with you for much longer, you know. You're just his little bit of trash, he'll throw you aside the minute I tell him to. He'll come running. All I have to do is nod my head and he'll be with me, and you'll be out with the rest of the garbage."
"You want to nod your head? Nod this!" Natalie scooped up a bowl full of salad and upended it over Cindi's bleached blonde hair.
As food fights go, it was extremely short but very satisfying. Cindi squealed like a frightened piglet and started flapping her hands at the cascade of lettuce and croutons that were now decorating her now-straggly hair. Shreds of carrot and bean sprouts nestled in her cleavage.
"Would you like some dressing with that? They have French or Italian." Natalie watched happily as her opponent tried to shed the salad.
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