Measure Of Control

One day Lily found out there were consequences to the way she’d been behaving.
She wasn’t a bad wife, she didn’t think, but she was restless and dissatisfied. Everything seemed a little bit pointless. There was no real incentive to do anything and her life stretched ahead of her, without goals and without real dangers. She had to keep herself and the house looking nice, and put tasty meals punctually on the table, and she had to concentrate during sex and just afterwards so that she kept Lawrence’s semen well inside her because they wanted a child.
She supposed that once they had a child things would be different. She’d heard from her friends about the sleepless nights and all the little milestones: the first smile, the first word, the first step, potty training, nursery school ... She wasn’t sure whether she looked forward to it or not; it depended whether it was as boring as being just a housewife. In any case, it was what she had to aspire to: there was nothing else.
When she was first married to Lawrence, things had definitely been different. He’d been so attentive! It wasn’t just that he spoilt her with little presents (a scarf, a brooch, a flimsy nightie), or brought her breakfast in bed. It was that he noticed things - he noticed her. He noticed when she wore a different dress, or when she put a vase of daffodils on the mantelpiece or a bowl of roses on the dining table. He even realised when she was miserable or in a bad mood, and asked her what was up.
His presence used to give her a thrill; it was true! He wasn’t a badlooking guy: a mite serious - a laugh or a bit of mischief would have lightened up his face no end. There had definitely been what they call ‘chemistry’ between them. One of her most cherished memories was when, quite unexpectedly, he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her over the threshold of their new home. As far as she’d been concerned, he could have ravished her there and then on the dining room table, if it hadn’t been for her mother-in-law following on behind with one of those turn-handle potato peelers.
What had happened? She was sure it wasn’t her. She’d dressed prettily for Lawrence for months and months afterwards and asked him what he thought of her cooking so she could improve, just like all the magazines told her to. She’d kept the house spick and span because there was nothing else to do. Now she was so listless she could scarcely lift the vacuum cleaner and still Lawrence didn’t notice.
He had to notice her. She would make him.
She didn’t even have to try to make the house a mess - it already was. She was cooking the same meals over and over again and Lawrence didn’t seem to care. She was way behind with the laundry so that finding clean clothes was a perpetual struggle. What else could she do to attract attention? She could spend money they didn’t have, or say something rude to the neighbours, but that wasn’t her style.
Without making any conscious decision, she started to disrespect Lawrence more directly. She stopped wearing a girdle when it was just the two of them at home. She was always too tired to have sex, and she pretended she had her period when she didn’t. Even someone as inattentive as him should have noticed that she was unavailable every other week rather than once a month. She didn’t bother to look at him when he was talking to her, and she didn’t get up with any degree of alacrity when he asked her to fetch him things. She was sulky, bordering on insolent.
She noticed him glowering at her a few times, and once he snapped: “Pull yourself together, woman.”
But nothing he said or did changed her feelings or the resultant attitude. He was starting to bore her as much as her life bored her. It never really occurred to her that her marriage might be in jeopardy.
Then that day came when she went too far, just by a fraction.
He’d told her in the morning that the bed linen needed changing and by the evening she hadn’t done it. She noticed that when he got home from work, he went upstairs to the bedroom, which was unusual for him. When he got downstairs again, he sat on the settee, in the middle where there were no seat imprints, and called her to him out of the kitchen.
“I’ve got to turn the meat,” she said, tossing her head with impatience.
“The meat can wait. Turn it off.”
“Well if you want your dinner late ...”
“Dinner will be late tonight. We have business to attend to.”
“What business could be more important than your dinner?” she asked sarcastically.
“The business of your spanking,” said Lawrence firmly. “You’ve disobeyed me one too many times.”
Lily jumped. This was so unlike her husband who had ‘never laid a finger on her’ as she often boasted to her friends. Did he really mean it? She was suddenly rather interested. Her ‘women’s parts’ as she called them were also rather interested; her knickers were damp.
“Come here,” said Lawrence.
Lily obeyed. It was the first time in months she’d obeyed with any vigour.
Lawrence allowed her to stand in front of him.
“I’m tired of your spoilt, selfish, careless attitude,” he said, holding her gaze with his and speaking slowly and emphatically. “You have a job to do here in our home, and as your husband I expect you to do it properly. Instead you mooch around with your face down to your ankles, and for no other reason than that you’re bored. Well I’ve got news for you. That’s what being an adult is like. Do you think I always like my job? No. But I still do it to the best of my ability because it puts bread on our table. I don’t have the luxury to get bored. And from now on, you’re not going to have the luxury of any bad attitude. If you don’t obey me, if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do in your long days on your own here, you’ll get spanked.”
Lily still didn’t believe he would do anything to her. “Where did you get the idea from?” she asked, somewhat breathlessly.
“I didn’t need to get the idea from anywhere,” Lawrence answered sternly. “It’s something I should have done a long time ago.”
Lily felt another surge of damp between her legs.
Lawrence reached out, took hold of her left arm, and pulled her towards him. “Over my knee,” he said.
Lily wondered for a split second whether she should pull free and run. Some of her friends had intimated that their husbands spanked them, and they seemed to live in dread of it, but they were so vague that it sometimes sounded as if they were referring to rough sex.
Whether she had it in common with her friends or not, she was about to experience something totally new. Her fear could not quite overcome her curiosity, and Lawrence’s scolding had most definitely aroused her.