Red Roses Ch. 05 - Blue Roses

There was no message. I called but her phone went to voicemail. I frowned, pulled up Tina's number, and dialed. It rang three times before she answered. Her words slurred together and I could tell right away she was drunk. She said, "Hey, Justin."

"Hi, Tina. Is Trish there?"

"Oh yeah, she's here. She's feeling goooooood." The laughs of multiple women filled the background. "We're just gonna hang out a little longer."

I rolled my eyes and started to ask Tina if Trish was going to crash on their couch, as she had done in the past when Tina's next words nailed my feet to the floor. She whispered, "Is that okay or does her big bad dom want her home right away?"

I think every muscle in my body clenched and it wasn't until I heard the pop of the phone's outer casing under the pressure of my tightening fist before I caught myself. "Say what?"

"Oh, you, dominating her submissive ass. She told us all about it. She really gets off on you being in charge. She says it's cute." Tina giggled, then lowered her voice, though her "low" drunk voice was still as loud as a sober person's. "Don't worry, we won't tell anyone."

There was a fumbling of the phone and Jim's voice came on the line. "Hey, Justin."

"Jim--"

"Trish is fine, she's just wasted. All five of them are. Marty is on his way to get Jan but the others are going to crash here." He hesitated and then dashed any hopes I had that Trish hadn't admitted in public what Tina said. "Look, Justin, don't worry about what Trish said. She was drinking, stuff slips out."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Great. Fucking fantastic. Our whole friend circle knows about our sex life now. Jim won't talk but the women? Hell yeah, they will. Every time I look at one of them now, they'll be thinking it.

"Justin? You still there?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm going to come get her."

"No, stay there, I'll bring her to you. I can tell you're pissed so you probably shouldn't be driving. Take a few, try and cool off so you don't say something you'll regret, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Since he was waiting on Marty, Jim told me it would be about forty-five minutes and we disconnected. I sat on the couch and stared at the wall. The longer I did, the angrier I got. I told myself that I was just going to pour Trish to bed and we'd have a come-to-Jesus conversation in the morning. We're going to settle this shit once and for all. She said she wanted me to be dominant and--

I blinked and stopped. The thought struck me like a snowball in the face.

I haven't been dominant. Even though she's been okay with me directing our sex life, I haven't really taken control. I keep thinking about things and telling myself, 'I'll do this if she's all right with it.' That's not how this works. I thought for a moment. All right, then. She wanted a dom, right? Well that's what she is going to fucking get.

It was about forty-five minutes later when I heard the key fumbling in the lock. I stood in the living room with my thumbs hooked in the pockets of my jeans and a neutral expression on my face.

The tumblers finally clicked and the lock gave way. Trish half-stepped, half-stumbled through the door. Her eyes were glassy and she had a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She saw me and took a swaying step in my direction. "Hey, baby! You have a good evening?" She was still pretty trashed--too far gone for any kind of reasonable conversation.

Fine, wait until morning, then.

Jim appeared behind her. His eyes met mine and he looked away, embarrassed. His action only hardened my resolve. I said, "Thanks, man. I'll take her from here."

"Sorry about this, Justin. Like I said, I'll keep it to myself. Jillian and Brianne are passed out in the guest bedroom. I better get back, make sure they're okay." We shook hands and he left. As I went to close the door, I heard a muffled thump of loud music. I glanced at the driveway and caught Tina in the front seat of Jim's car, obviously stewed to the gills, singing and gyrating like she was on a dance floor. Her long blonde hair flipped back and forth. Thankfully, the car windows were up.

I snorted. Tina had always been a happy, frenetic drunk. If I didn't have my own headache to deal with, I wouldn't have envied Jim's evening of getting her corralled. I closed and locked the front door.

Trish had already retreated to the bedroom. She'd kicked her shoes off and unbuttoned the top button of her pants but that was as far as she'd gotten. She tossed me a lopsided grin. "Oh, baby, I've been waiting for this."

She pouted a little but didn't resist as I changed her to a tee shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, and maneuvered her into bed without joining her. We'd fucked plenty of times drunk but what I was planning was well outside our normal activity, and I wanted her fully sober and in control of herself for it. I sat and talked to her and as expected, she passed out quickly.

It took me a lot longer to drift off.

#

As I expected, Trish slept in--which for her, meant she was still in bed at eight. I was up before sunrise, getting things prepared, so when I heard her stirring, I was ready. When she stumbled to the kitchen, I moved to the living room. I took a deep breath. "Trish, would you come out here, please."

She appeared in the doorway. Trish had thrown her robe over her pajamas, though without tying the sash. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes bleary with sleep but she smiled when she saw me.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired and a little groggy but fine." She yawned. "I got a little wild last night, huh?"

"You remember? Everything?"

Her cheeks grew a little rosy and she looked away. I could tell she was hoping I wouldn't pursue the issue. "Yes."

"But you think you're sober now?" I wanted a firm confirmation.

She nodded. "Yeah. I'm gonna pay for it today but I'm doing all right." She stretched. "You have plans today? I was thinking we needed to work on that mess in the garage and--"

"Trish, what time did you get in last night?"

"Huh?"

"What time was it?"

"Uh, I don't remember."

I crossed my arms. "By the time Jim got you to the front door, it was a quarter to two. What time were you going to be home?"

"Midnight."

"And did you let me know you were going to be late?"

"No, but I was safe, I was at Tina's."

"Did I know that?"

She shook her head.

I took two steps away, then turned back to her. I kept my voice level, since I knew calm and collected was imperative for the image I was trying to project. "And while you were at Tina's, did you discuss something you shouldn't have?"

Trish flushed and looked away.

"I'm waiting."

"I, uh... we talked about... stuff." Trish rubbed her hands together.

"You told your girlfriends about us being in a dominant-submissive relationship. You referred to me as 'cute' when I take control. Is that right?"

She nodded, though she continued to look everywhere but at me.

"I never talk to the guys about our sex life. You know that." She did, too. We'd set that boundary years ago. I'd never broken it and as far as I know, she hadn't before now. "Did I give you permission to talk about our intimate lives with other people?"

"Justin, these are my best friends--your friends too. We've known them forever. They aren't going to say anything to anyone. I should be allowed to talk to them and--"

I held up my hand for her to stop and she did. "Let me say it again: did I give you permission to talk about our intimate lives with other people?"

"No."

"All right. What do you suppose we should do about that?"

She stared at me.

I continued, not really expecting an answer. "I think you need to be punished."

She laughed. "What?"

I knew that deep down I was much less angry than I had been. The night of sleep, even restless sleep, had shaved off the hard angles of irritation. I knew my initial reaction of outrage had just been the compounded effects of all the week's stress. But that anger had produced my epiphany. After months of us stumbling through a half-functional dom-sub relationship, I think I had finally hit on what Trish was looking for, even if she herself couldn't explain it. She didn't just want me to dominate her. She needed it, and she needed me to force her hand.

I'd give her the chance to back out, of course; I would not force my wife to do anything. She'd agree to what was going to happen, and it would... or she would balk, and it wouldn't. Either way, I was determined to get something straight with her. If she wanted me to take control, then she had to give it up altogether. We were going to do this properly or we were going to have that long conversation about sexual equality in our relationship. "I said, you need to be punished."

She stared at me, goggle-eyed. I couldn't tell if she was more offended, amused, or flabbergasted at my presumption.

"I know we haven't talked about the punishment part of this relationship but..." I caught myself. I'd started to say, "I think." Instead, I made it more directive. "But if we're going to continue in any kind of dom-sub relationship, that aspect of it will be present."

"I don't understand."

"If I am supposed to have control, I need to be able to correct your bad behavior. Carrot and stick, Trish. I think I've been pretty good with the carrot. But every now and again, that means you need the stick. Like now."

I narrowed my eyes. Something in my expression must have caught her attention, since Trish's own eyes widened and she took half a step back.

"You talked about a private matter between a husband and wife, in breach of our previously-agreed-upon boundaries, and you did so in a way that wasn't very respectful to me. You stayed out late without letting me know you were safe. Both of those actions were inconsiderate. You need to learn not to do either of those things."

Sure, it was a gamble but I knew my spouse. She had been enjoying the current bedroom dynamic and I didn't think she'd want to give that up. Would she give up some autonomy to keep it? I figured the odds were good but she was too proud to do it suggest it on her own. She'd need a nudge.

My wife crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "Justin--"

"What happens to most subs when they go against their masters?" I'd chosen the terms for deliberate impact. She stared at me again. I gave her a moment, then added, "Do you respect me enough to even answer my question?"

"Uh..." Trish's eyes widened and she stumbled over the words. "They get... punished?"

I reached behind the chair and picked up the wooden paddle with the leather-wrapped grip I'd placed there. It was one of the toys I'd bought some weeks before. At the time, I thought a little light spanking might enhance our play. Now, it was going to be the real deal.

Trish eyed the paddle. "Justin, what are you doing?"

"Take your robe off, pull your pants down, and bend over the couch." Seeing her gawking at me, I said, "You wanted a dominant, did you not?"

"Yes, but--"

"You wanted this. You don't get to pick and choose when I'm in charge unless you set some boundaries. Since you haven't, I'm in control, and I say it's time for punishment." I punctuated the last word with a slap of the paddle in my open palm.

Trish jumped at the smacking sound. "I don't--"

"Uh-uh." I gestured at her with the paddle. "You aren't to use the word, 'don't.' You know our safe word. It's the same safe word we've used for sex for our entire relationship--from back when we first started our encounters." The word was "Cincinnati." It was an odd choice but it was unlikely to come up by accident during sex and we'd never changed it. I continued. "If you want me to stop, you will use that. I have abided by the safe word since we've been together and I will now. We don't have to continue with the dom-sub relationship. Which way we go is entirely up to you, but it's going to be all or nothing."

Tears filled Trish's eyes. Her voice was just a whisper. "Justin."

"I know you like it, Trish--you like me taking charge in the bedroom, and that's fine. I'm good with that. But I want all the control. It has to be a give and take. You toeing the line and obeying me on certain things... that is my part of 'take.' The fine points are negotiable but the concept isn't. We can stop it or not, but if we're not stopping, you are going to get paddled this morning."

Trish bit her lip.

"Just tell me we're not doing this." I crossed my arms and tapped with my foot. "I'll wait."

She wrung her hands together. Her expression was a mix of fear and pleading but she said nothing.

A heady sense of triumph rushed through me. She can't deny it. I fought not to smirk at her. "That's what I thought. I said, take your pants down and bend over the couch. I won't tell you a third time."

Her lips quivered but Trish doffed her robe. She fumbled for the string tie of her pajamas and slowly lowered them. When she started to look away, I slapped the paddle in the palm of my hand a second time. She jumped again. I said, "Look me in the eye."

She gazed at me as she pushed her pants to her knees, then her underpants. The bottom of Trish's tee-shirt hung low, obscuring direct line of sight with her treasures but the knowledge that she lay naked and vulnerable beneath that thin flap of cotton, with her smooth thighs on display right below the shirt hem... and yeah, the giddy thrill that came with the rush of control, I admit it... well, let's just say my cock was so hard that I could have driven nails with it. I pointed at the couch.

My wife slowly lowered herself across the sofa. She gripped the back with both hands. I stepped behind her, standing to her left, and eased the tail of her shirt up over her waist, exposing that magnificent ass. My fingers crept across the smooth skin and Trish moaned. I couldn't decide if her moan was more dread or excitement.

"Ten swats, I think. That should be enough this time." My bare hand caressed her bottom for a few seconds, then gave her a very light tap. She shivered and her fingers dug into the sofa fabric. I shifted the paddle to my right hand. "Trish, I didn't want to have to do this. It hurts me as much as it does you. But believe it or not, this is for your own good."

I swung the paddle and struck her across both cheeks.

Trish stiffened and gasped.

I drew back and swatted her again. She lowered her head and groaned. A third smack brought a slight cry of pain. I gave her seven more, of consistent strength and interval. By the fourth overall blow, Trish was squirming. By the eighth, she was crying. When I finished the tenth, she had her head down. Light sobs filled the room.

Guilt flashed through my mind. The thought that I had done this to her--that I had made my wife cry--intruded in my thoughts and I wondered what kind of bastard I'd become. It didn't matter that I hadn't hit her that hard or that her rear end wasn't bruised and only just a little pink. I rubbed her skin, trying to ease her pain and my own conscience.

My thumb encountered a trickle of something wet. I glanced down and was shocked to see a trail of liquid running down her leg. It wasn't blood. Not knowing what else to do, I inched my fingers between her legs. She was absolutely soaked.

The moment my fingers touched her pussy, Trish bucked and cried out. Her whole body shook and she gasped for air. Me? I just stood still, entranced by what I was seeing. I wouldn't have thought that in a million years a spanking would have turned her on that much. But then, this was the same woman who had been excited as hell to have me pretend to be an intruder and force her to have sex... the same woman who had come repeatedly when I fucked her on a hotel balcony on our honeymoon, even though she'd initially been against it.

It's not the paddling, I thought. She really does like to be controlled.

As the aftershocks of her orgasm subsided, I let instinct take over. I straightened my wife up, bent myself to tuck a forearm behind her knees, and scooped her into my arms. Her arms wrapped around my neck so tight that for a moment I thought she was choking me out of anger but then I realized that she was clinging to me with all her strength. She whimpered and buried her face in the crook of my neck and shoulder. I have to admit, her clutching me like I was a lifeline made me feel a little better.

I carted Trish to our bedroom and gently laid her on the bed, on her back. The moment I started to straighten, her grip tightened. She did not want to release my neck. In a soft but firm voice, I said, "Trish, you'll be fine. Let go."

She did and looked at me with plaintive eyes. Tears streaked her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For making you worry. For telling secrets. For misbehaving."

"Apology accepted." The sight of her lying there with her pants half off did nothing but make my own lust grow. Her pussy lips shone with slickness and my dick throbbed at the sight. I took a deep breath. "I'll be back in a moment. Take off the rest of your clothes and lie face-down on the bed."

"Okay."

I gave her a direct look. "No, not 'okay.' What do you say?"

She hesitated. "Yes, sir?"

"Better. I'll be right back."

I went and picked her robe up off the living room floor and straightened up a few things. All in all, it took me about five minutes, and then I returned to the bedroom.

She had indeed stripped and laid face-down on the bed with her head resting on her folded arms. She watched me as I came in but didn't say a word. Her robe I left across one of the chairs. I stripped to my boxers, opened the drawer, took out a bottle of oil, and crawled onto the bed with her. I caught her eyes on the erection tenting my shorts and said, "See something interesting?"

"Yes, sir, something I want."

"Do you think you deserve that?"

She blushed and looked away. "Maybe not but I'm hopeful."

I chuckled, climbed on the bed, straddled her legs. and popped the cap on the oil. "Since you took your first punishment so well, I have decided to reward you a little. This will not be the case all the time. Punishment is meant to be that. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

She hissed as the room-temperature liquid dribbled onto her back, then sighed as I massaged it into the tense muscles of her back and shoulders. I ran my hands down her upper arms, her ribcage, and--with extra gentleness--over the tender skin of her butt. After ten minutes, Trish had degenerated into a moaning ball of limp flesh. I fetched an older towel from the linen closet, wiped her down, and put the oil away.

As I came toward the bed, Trish raised her head. She gazed at me but didn't say anything. For a long moment,, we stared at each other before I realized she was waiting for me to speak first. I said, "You want to say something?"

"May... may I make a request, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"Would you make love to me?"

I smiled. Whenever Trish asked for gentle love as opposed to fucking, it meant she wanted reassurance that I still loved her, which I of course did. "I think that can be allowed."

It was a slow and gentle coupling. I lost my shorts and climbed in next to her. We kissed a little. Trish was tentative at first but as we caressed and touched each other, her hands grew more confident and assured, and we fell into our natural rhythm. After a few moments, I moved between her legs and slid inside her, just as I had so often in the past. She was sopping wet and I was hard as granite, so our joining was quick. We rocked back and forth in an easy, unhurried manner. Trish kept her hands on the sides of my face and held my lips close to hers. The whole time I thrust into her, she whispered, "I love you. I love you so much."

After the sheer eroticism of the morning, it only took me a few moments to hit my peak. I kept my pace steady until my cock pulsed and I emptied my load into her. She held her breath as I did and when I was done she gave me a kiss that was fierce in its desperation. I slid out of her and we cuddled together on our sides, with her butt against my groin. I draped my arm over her hip and pulled her close against me.