Sally's Trip to the Theater

If Sally was looking for a way to reignite what she feared was my lost affection, what better way than to find something that connected us back to where we began, back to the library and our first meeting. Gee, it had been a 'big deal' for her!

It must have really hurt when I'd said I didn't give a 'rat fuck'. Shit it was something she'd put her whole heart and soul into. Yeah, without knowing I'd broken her heart. She'd planned a special evening, and I'd, though unknowingly, had callously crushed her. But why hadn't she told me? I knew why; it was supposed to be a surprise. To her my 'rat fuck' plus the business trip wasn't just thoughtless; it was downright cruel.

I knew what I had to do. I had to find a way to punish her, but it had to be something she'd see as fair, but also something that would allow us to put this single tragic event in a box and move on. I had something figured out; it would all come together Friday night and Saturday. I didn't think what I had in mind would ever bury what I saw, and how I felt about it, but what the fuck, I knew I loved her. I'd chance it. I'd suck it up.

~~-v-~~

Friday afternoon finally arrived. I took off early, everybody else did too, and I drove straight home. When I got there Sally was up to her old tricks. She gave me one of her 'wan smiles', and said, "John I don't feel well. Maybe we could just stay home."

Of course I knew what this was about, "No Sally we're going and I want you to wear that pretty light brown dress we got you the other night."

"John that's not an appropriate party dress; I'll look childish and silly."

"Sally you're right and wrong. For sure there'll be lots of cleavage and thigh on display tonight. I'm certain quite a few of the women will be putting on a show, but you won't be childish or silly, you'll look like a young married woman who is dressed to please her husband."

"John I don't want to wear that dress. Let me choose something else."

"No Sally you're going to look the way you should. Come on, you're small; you can't compete with a bunch of big breasted blonds. You're who you are. You're gorgeous when you don't try to be something you aren't."

"John."

"Sally."

"Oh."

I got her to wear the dress, and we went to the party. Sure enough the place was loaded with low cut high hemmed black and red dresses, but there was only one Sally and she looked adorable, at least she did to me.

I decided to add one more dimension. Just before we went inside I took out a jewelry box and showed her a large ruby pendant I'd bought just for this occasion. I'd bought it that very afternoon. I placed the thing around her neck. It drooped daintily just a few inches down the front of her chest. The red stone glittered and shone brightly between her tiny breasts. It accentuated the delicate curve of her upper body, and gave her a soft feminine, dare I say concupiscent, look that drew men's eyes in the direction I intended.

I wore a dark brown suit that matched her dress. I stayed at her side the entire night. When other men asked for a dance I graciously shared her hand, but I never strayed. If I couldn't dance with my wife, I just didn't dance. She noticed too.

As the night wore on Sally and I were both swept up in the emotion of the evening. I hadn't seen her this happy in quite some time. I was glad too, because later I had a punishment planned for her. We danced and danced. I loved holding her body close to mine. She was nearly a foot shorter than me, and if I leaned down slightly and she leaned up, her head pressed snugly under my chin. People noticed that too.

Her hair was in a tight bun; it had a soft, I'd say a subtle floral scent. It was combed back so tightly against her scalp that her petite well shaped ears were fully revealed; delicate gold hoops dangled from her lobes. They splashed a brilliant light with her every move.

Her smallish breasts were pushed up and out by the garment's finely woven shelf bra. They felt invitingly firm against my upper abdomen, and as she slowly swayed back and forth across my torso I felt very much a man. The ruby pendant hung invitingly between her two twin orbs, and created a gentle swale that accentuated her femininity.

Did Sally feel self-conscious? Yes she was self-conscious. I don't think she'd ever had so many men look at her the way they did; many stared hungrily. She alternately blanched and blushed. She may not have been the belle of the ball, but she was certainly a hit. As we danced I discreetly watched as my male colleagues cast ravening looks in her direction. I was proud she was my woman.

~~-v-~~

We left shortly after midnight. Sally was exhausted, and I have to admit that I was pretty tired too. I got her home, took her upstairs, and helped her undress.

Once we were both undressed Sally came toward me, but I held her off, I said, "Sally you've been bad, very bad, and I need to punish you."

She looked confused, "What are you going to do?"

I told her, "Reach under your side of the bed."

She walked back, knelt down, reached under the bed and found the instrument of her doom. She pulled out the orange paddle I had placed there earlier. Holding it in her hands nervously she got back up and unsteadily walked back toward me, she asked, "What are you going to do with this?"

I replied, "Give me the paddle then come here and bend over my lap."

She instinctively stepped back, "No."

I repeated, "Come here."

She whispered, "John no, please."

Pointing to my lap I said again, "Here, now."

She shakily stepped forward.

I took her left hand and gently pulled so that her stomach pressed against my lap, "Now Sally I'm going to repay you for some of the pain you've caused me."

She sniveled, "John no, please don't."

"This is going to hurt Sally," she started to cry. I raised the paddle high and brought it down viciously against her left cheek. There was a loud smack. I think the swiftness and the ferocity of my first strike stunned her. She didn't cry out at first. Then when the paddle fell on her right cheek she moaned. I'd hoped for more, but pretty soon she was bellowing and screaming. I brought the paddle down repeatedly, again and again. I didn't bother to count. I hit her bottom as hard as I could. My pent up anger, my pain, more and more of the tense emotion and fury that had been stored up over the past week was unleashed as I pummeled her tiny ass. I savagely altered her rearmost contours; they went from their original delightful pale pink, first to a dark pink, then to pale red, transformed next to a deeper red, then to dark crimson, and last to an angry deep bluish black. I felt my anger, my rage slowly dissipate. At last, after for her what must have seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few short minutes I stopped.

The paddle had done its job. She rolled off my lap and scrunched down to her knees. She clung desperately to my legs, "Oh John please. I'm so sorry," she cried as she stammered, "John, John...let me be your wife, let me stay your wife," she gasped and whimpered over and over, "I'm so sorry, sorry, please forgive me, please John let me stay. I love you so..."

I looked down at her. She appeared so helpless. I felt like a sadistic bastard, but I felt good too. I'd had a degree of retribution. I reached down and lifted her off the floor. I carried her to our bed and laid her face down, on her stomach, "Don't move," I said. I went to the bathroom and obtained the aloe we kept in the medicine cabinet. I lay down beside her, and after warming the medication with my hand I carefully spread it over her ravaged cheeks. She wept as I massaged the cream into her brutalized flesh.

At last I gently helped her roll so that she was facing me, "I love you Sally. I forgive you. I also forgive myself. I realize I've been blind."

I took my hand and wiped her face. I wiped my fingers across her now matted but still soft and fragrant hair, "I'm going to show my love for you every day from now on. I promise, you'll never feel neglected or overlooked again. You're mine, and I want you to know you'll never doubt that again, not ever. And remember, not for one minute that there could ever be anyone else. You're who I want, just you, only you."

I pulled her close. She responded. We lay there together, side by side. I was already fully erect. We kissed. I always loved the soft feel of her lips on mine. Lying side by side, facing each other, I slowly pressed against her, I pressed myself inside her. She was tight, tiny, but she was wet. She was ready for me. I slowly pushed myself in, deeper and deeper. I reached the limit of her woman's cave. I felt the head of my penis against her cervix. I continued to push, further, as deep as I could go. Still I wasn't able to get completely inside. I'd never had. It didn't matter; it never mattered before, not to me.

I felt her respond. She pushed back against me. She wrapped her hands around my neck; her right leg she lapped over my left. We were two people, but we were one and the same. Back and forth, in and out, this time we enjoyed a different dance. Earlier it had been on the dance floor at a club, it had been a waltz; now we danced to a different rhythm. We were both hot, and wet, and filled with love.

~~-v-~~

When morning came I couldn't recall how much, how many, or how deeply we'd made love. I know I was sorer than shit. I rolled over and checked the clock; it was after 11:00 a.m. I heard Sally singing downstairs. I realized there were a few more things to do. I climbed out of bed, slipped on a pair of boxers and went downstairs. This was the final payoff.

I reached the kitchen just as she placed a coffee in front of me, "Sally," I said, "there are a few more things."

She took a cup of her own, but remained standing, "Yes my darling?"

I want you to first take all your birth control devices, the diaphragm, the morning after pills, any other birth control devices you might have, and I want you to throw them all away. Second, forget about looking for any kind of new job. Beginning today we go to work on building our family. We already have the names; now we need to make the children who'll own them," I watched as her eyes filled with water.

"One last thing; we need to get dressed. There' something I have to show you."

After a few more swallows of coffee and several 'morning mouth' kisses we went upstairs, shared a warm shower, I rubbed in some more aloe, we brushed our hair and our teeth, and got dressed. She wore a cute comfort fitting slip over dress. I slipped on anther Tee shirt, a pair of tan jeans, some white socks, and my work shoes.

We took Sally's Mustang and we drove out north and west of the city. Sally had no idea where we were going or what I had in mind. After a lengthy drive we left the main road and drove up a back lane till we reached 'the place'.

I told her, "Stop here," I walked around and helped her from the car. I took her hand and we walked across the open space to the acreage I'd been paying on. I asked her, "What do you think?"

She looked out; to the north and west were the Rocky Mountains, not far off was downtown Boulder, off to the southeast in the distance was Denver. We weren't far from the Flatirons, and just off a short distance was a creek that fed the South Platte River. She was holding my hand, she wistfully murmured, "It's beautiful here."

I squeezed her hand, "It's ours, or it will be after a few more payments."

She looked at me; first in surprise and then adoringly, "You mean?"

"Yeah I saw the area and fell in love with it. It's a nice lot, six acres," I pointed to a copse of trees, "I thought maybe we could build over there."

She closed the short distance that separated us. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pressed her head to my chest, "Oh John..."

And that's where it ends.

~~-v-~~

Well I guess you got to the end. I want to thank Bob for letting me write this. I gave the story the end I did mainly because of the way most of Bob's stories generally end. If you've ever noticed; those stories that he writes that do actually definitively have a conclusion most often end up with some level of reconciliation or if not reconciliation without rancor. He's been known to burn a 'B' or two, but more often he tends to be generous. There are those who might consider that wimpish; I think it's admirable.

Alas, for those readers who expect literality I did take some minor cosmetic license. In Bob's account there's no mention of Sally having a job, but in mine I gave her one, and that was where she found Sam. In Bob's account she'd called around. Since there was no precise reference as what 'called around' meant I thought I could get away with the way I wrote it. Also in Bob's account Sally told John Sam might stay over that night after the play. Since John never absolutely knew Sam had stayed the night, I gave John a pass on Sally having had sex in his house. Bob had Sally be quite the shrew. In the sequel she's more a desperate mouse than shrew. As Bob's account was almost all action we never got a clear description of what John and Sally looked like so I got to turn John into a 'hunk' and Sally into someone a lot less sexy. If I missed something else, please don't take umbrage.

Please leave a comment. Vote if you're inclined. If you didn't like it say so, but tell me why. I know I've been pretty thin skinned in the past, but I'm trying to do better. And Harry, if you read it; I hope I get a comment from you too.

And one last p.s.:

I haven't been to Denver in many years, and that was just a short stopover on my way to the west coast. I do remember how beautiful Colorado is, but I'm kind of fuzzy on the specifics. Of course, it's grown a lot since I was there. Please don't hold my geographic ignorance against me.

Carvohi