by Chula

This was the worst Marcie had felt in years. The flu bug had hit two days ago and she was still feeling the effects. Every time she coughed, the top her head felt like it was being blown to the ceiling by dynamite. Jacob had been sympathetic and attentive throughout, and was relieved to hear she was feeling better that morning. His final, "Stay in bed one more day, and tomorrow I'll bet you're feeling tip-top again," had left her encouraged but a bit guilty. She'd done nothing but complain and moan for days now and really needed to snap out of it.

So when lunch time came around and she felt like she could eat a little soup, she got up and went to the kitchen. It was such a disaster that she forgot all about the soup and set to work cleaning and scrubbing. Once the kitchen looked slightly more habitable, she noticed the den and went to work once more, vacuuming and dusting hurriedly. On her way to shake out the duster, she noticed the cat box and cleaned it out with a slight smile. She remembered the last time she'd neglected to clean it daily. She'd had no excuse then and gotten spanked for forgetting her duty and her promise. That spanking had made her feel so loved and cherished that she'd never forgotten it. If she was important enough to him that he would spank her to help her remember to keep her promises, she was very much treasured indeed.

She finished cleaning the cat box and shaking out the duster, then went back into the den to finish folding the mountains of laundry lying everywhere. By the time she was done, she felt the old throbbing headache coming back, like it had done every afternoon about this time. Maybe I should just go lie down until this passes, she thought. She returned upstairs to the bedroom and dropped off into uneasy slumber.

When Jacob came home, he looked around and wondered at how nice the house looked. He didn't remember cleaning the kitchen that thoroughly before he left for work. And hadn't there been a bit of laundry left on the couch? What was going on here?

"Marcie?" he called up the stairs.

His only answer was a cough and a groan that floated down the stairs at him like a lost feather. He followed the sound and found his wife lying in bed holding her head as if it were going to crack apart.

"What's wrong, babe?" he asked. "I thought you were feeling better this morning?"

"I was," she whined. "But now I'm feeling horrible again. This flu is just awful. When is it going to be over?"

He sat beside her on the bed and rubbed her back until she asked him for some pain reliever. He brought that to her, then went downstairs to fix her something to eat. He found the can of soup on the cabinet where she had left it and wondered what it was doing out. An idea came to his mind and he looked around again for more clues. Who had folded the washing? Who had washed the breakfast dishes? And striding over to the darn cat box he knew he certainly hadn't cleaned, he had the final proof that a certain sick girl had indeed gotten out of bed and straight into hot water, as far as he was concerned.

Carrying the tray of soup and crackers up the stairs, he schooled his face not to betray his irritation. She was a grown woman after all and able to decide for herself if she was well enough to be up and about. But then again, she had asked for him to show her how he really felt and not just clam up when he was upset. While she was sick might not be the best time to put this DD thing into practice, but her actions today did seem to prove her words that she didn't know how he was feeling and needed better communication with him. He felt like communicating, all right! He'd like to communicate his displeasure all over her little rear end.

"Here's some supper, sweetheart," he said as he put down the tray.

"Oh, take that away. I can't eat anything. Can't you see I'm sick?"

"Oh, yes you can eat, and you'll listen to me while you do it," he replied so firmly that she looked up at him in surprise.

"Come on, Jacob. I'm really sick. Can't this wait?" she whined dismissively.

"You weren't too sick to clean house today, now were you? You need to listen to me now, before you make things any worse. It's important," he explained.

"Where do you get off telling me what to do?" she countered.

"So I'm only head of this house when you're feeling good and it's convenient, huh? Is that the way you think it's going to work?" He left the tray on the night table and walked out of the room. I should have known it wouldn't last, he thought in disappointment. She just wants to play the game when it suits her. She's not serious and I don't want to push it. It's not that important to her, so it's not that important to me. She can take care of herself, so why should I do it, anyway? I can go read my paper in peace.

Marcie fell into an uneasy slumber, and woke the next morning, still out of sorts with the world. It was Saturday morning and Jacob had gone out for a long jog. Marcie picked up the phone and called her dear friend and mentor, Jennifer, who had first shown her the web-site that had brought DD into their lives. Jen picked up on the third ring and listened sympathetically to all Marcie's complaints.

"So here I am, feeling totally ragged out and wasted and he wants to give me soup and complain about the house being a mess."

"He actually said that? It doesn't sound like the Jacob I know," Jen asked. "And I thought you said you didn't really let him talk to you like he wanted to."

"Well, of course, he didn't talk. I just wasn't in the mood to listen to him, even after the meds kicked in and my head quit splitting," she responded pouting.

"Then how do you know he was going to complain? You didn't really give him a chance," Jen pointed out as gently as she could.

"So you're on his side? How can you? Oh, I get it. You got this DD thing going. You think the man is always right, don't you? I should have known," Marcie accused.

"Marcie, I can see you're still not in the mood to listen. If I said anything to you about DD, it's that it helps communication between two people. If you cut him off without a fair hearing, even after you felt better, then I didn't explain my point well enough back when I told you about DD. A man can't be head of a household he doesn't understand. A woman can't follow a head of the household if she doesn't know what he's thinking. You have to really talk and listen to each other for any marriage to work. But you know that already. What's really going on, Marcie?"

"Oh, I don't know, Jen. I'm just all out of whack and tired of being sick. I need to think and I just can't. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'll talk to you soon, okay?" Marcie started to hang up the phone.

"Wait, Marcie. You're not mad, are you? I didn't mean to make you mad or criticize. You just don't sound like yourself."

"No, I'm not mad. You're right. I'm not myself lately. I need to think and you've given me lots to think about. That's all. I guess I'd better get to cleaning the house and trying to find some answers."

The two friends hung up, both hoping and praying that Marcie would find the resolution she was looking for. Marcie took her time over cleaning the house and didn't really mind when Jacob didn't come home for lunch. She knew she wasn't very good company right now and wanted to really think things through. All day she pondered what Jen had said and what she herself had said and done all week. "This isn't the way I want to live," she thought. "This isn't the way I want to be. Why didn't I listen to him? Why didn't I give him a chance? I was feeling guilty and useless, so I just thought he was seeing me that way, too. And even if he did want to comment on the house being messy, I still owe him a hearing. It's not too much to ask. Why did I shut him off, and rudely, too? Well, I guess the important thing is to remedy the situation as soon as he gets home."

Jacob came home about three o'clock that afternoon looking pleasantly tired, but still a bit stressed when he saw Marcie.

"Are you feeling better? Looks like you've been working hard here," he commented. He wanted to say more about her needing to take it easy, but he didn't think she'd listen or welcome his input.

"My head is fine, but my heart's not. I need to apologize to you for the way I treated you yesterday. I assumed you were going to fuss at me for the way the house looked. I know I hadn't even done the cat box all week until yesterday and I thought you were mad. And even if you were, you had a right to be. I'm sorry I wouldn't even listen."

He looked at her for a moment in disbelief. Normally it would take her several days to get over her mad. He had resigned himself to some pretty cold days and lonely nights. Did she really mean what she was saying? What had caused her change of heart?

"You really are sorry, aren't you?" he asked her, still looking at her face and trying to gauge her sincerity.

"Yes, I am, and I'll take any punishment you decide in order to show I'm sincere," she answered.

"I don't want to punish you. What's that going to accomplish?" he responded with a bit of dismissal in his voice. He was ready to call it finished and go read the paper he had neglected this morning. All this talk really didn't matter, did it?

"What it might accomplish is that my heart will be able to hear more of what you are saying if you show me you really care. It might help clear the air and put this behind us, too. But I can understand if you would rather go read your paper. I've bugged you enough already and I want to make it up to you," she sighed. She felt responsible for their awkward situation and didn't want to make it any worse by forcing her solution on him. "So go and enjoy!" she suggested with a bright smile she really didn't feel.

"Just a minute. The paper can wait. What makes you think you'll listen to what I'm saying now? You didn't want to hear it yesterday?" he asked.

"I talked to Jen this morning and she reminded me that marriage depends on communication. DD or no, a couple who can't communicate is going to miss out on loads of great times. I realize that I was not being fair yesterday and that I should have listened. So I'm ready to listen now."

"But only if I spank you? To show I care?" His doubtful tone held just a touch of sarcasm. He was trying to show her the flaw in her reasoning, she realized.

"No, not only if you spank. I thought you might want to let off a bit of steam and put an end to all of this, but if you don't want to, I'll accept that, too. You are head of this household and I'll take your word for it. If you don't want to spank me, then that's the way it will be. I'm willing to listen right now, or wait until you are ready to talk."

"You really mean that, don't you? Whoa, that's sure a change from before then, isn't it? No more throwing fits or pouting to get your way?" he asked.

"Not as long as I can help it. I'm not going to be perfect, but I really mean it right now. I am going to try," she stated simply.

"Okay, then. It's over as far as I'm concerned. Let's just forget it, okay?"

"That's fine, honey. I'm sorry I was rude and I'll try never to be rude like that again. I don't know what came over me. I'm usually not like that, am I? she asked hesitantly.

"No, you're usually not rude like that. So let's just let it go," he requested again. She smiled at him and they both went about their activities in a more friendly atmosphere.

When she showed no signs of bringing up the topic again, he began to wonder. Maybe he really didn't have to do this spanking thing. Maybe things would get back to normal now. But then again, hadn't it been her commitment to his being head of the household that lead her to apologize? And wasn't it better to really get the air cleared after something like this? She'd said before that a spanking made her feel better. It might make him feel more right about things between them. "She wants it but she's not insisting or pouting," he thought. "Maybe there's more to this spanking thing than I thought. It won't hurt me to do this for her. It's helped things run more smoothly before when I've tried it."

Marcie was giggling over something on the computer screen when Jacob came into the room and told her, "It's time to shut that down, Marcie. We need to talk."

She pushed away from the computer desk and faced him. "Okay. What's up?" she asked.

"No, not here,darlin'," he replied. "We need to talk in the bedroom. Shut it down and come on, please."

Wondering what was on his mind, Marcie shut the computer down and followed him into the bedroom.

"Are you really over being sick now, Marcie?" he started off by asking her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered still not understanding.

"But you were sick yesterday." It was half a statement, half a question and she nodded her affirmative answer. "Then you should have stayed in bed, right?"

"Yes, well, I guess so, as it turns out. I was feeling better when I went downstairs for some lunch. That's when I saw all the things that needed to be done, so I just did them. But I guess that was a mistake because then I felt horrible again."

"But the point is that I thought we agreed that you would stay in bed one more day. Getting a bite of lunch is no big deal, but all that cleaning wasn't what we said. When I realized that you had gotten up and started working around the house, I just thought, 'Well, so much for being head of any household.' I don't tell you every little thing to do, but when I do ask you to do something, I want you to do it. Isn't that my job? You asked me to give you some leadership here, and I was trying. Then you blew me off."

"You're right, Jacob. I'm sorry. I don't have any defense. I'm not arguing with you. I can tell you that I didn't think of that yesterday, but I realize I should have. I didn't deliberately set out to blow you off. But I did wind up blowing you off, and I'm sorry. It was disrespectful, and I didn't realize that either until today. And not listening to you was disrespectful. I'm sorry about that, too."

He stood there looking at her again like she had suddenly become a different person. They weren't arguing and shouting as they once would have done. They were just talking and trying to understand each other. She was trying to be fair. He realized he should be more fair, too. "And I shouldn't have just walked out yesterday. Maybe I gave up too easily. I just figured things were back to the way they used to be. I guess I don't really want that, after all. Do you?"

"No, I don't want that," she answered in a quiet voice. Her instinct was to cry and plead with him to give her another chance. She was only human and would make mistakes. They both would. Their marriage was worth the effort to keep trying. But she realized that now was not the time for impassioned pleas. Simply letting him take the lead was the important thing right now, for her, and maybe, for both of them.

"So you were disrespectful and you didn't do as we agreed. Is that about it?" When she nodded her agreement, he stopped her. "I thought when we were having a discipline discussion, you were supposed to call me sir."

She looked up in surprise. "Yes, sir," she answered.

"Let's get this over with, then." He didn't want to punish her, but this was what they had agreed on and she seemed to want and need it. If it would help her, it would help them both. He held out his hand to her and she took it. He guided her around to stand by his right side. "Why are you getting punished?"

"Because I was disrespectful and disobedient," was her reply.

The word "disobedient" sounded strange in his ears, but he let it slide. Then he realized he would need more than just his hand to make this spanking count. "Then you need to practice being obedient. Go get the wooden spoon." He wasn't sure she would retrieve it for him, but she quickly brought it to him. "Good job, darlin'. Now pull down your pants and panties." Again, she obeyed him, then started to lay herself over his lap. It seemed to him she ought to listen to him more carefully, so he pointed this out to her. "Wait a second, little lady. I didn't say get over my lap yet. You just stand there a minute and think about how you can be more respectful. I try not to blow you off. I try to always listen to you. Next time, why not try listening to me?"

"Yes, sir," she quietly answered again. She stood waiting for several moments, not knowing where to look.

"Now you get over my lap, please. That's good. A little farther over. There, that's better." He put the wooden spoon down on the bed beside him and started the spanking with his hand. The first few slaps to her bottom were the worst. She hadn't been spanked in several weeks and was unused to it again. She stayed still on his lap as he covered her backside with swat after swat. Her bottom stung and burned by the time he began to concentrate lower down on her bottom and upper thighs. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! His hand fell sharply over and over again. Her backside soon took on rosy hue. He stopped for a moment to rub his hand which had begun to burn, too.

Picking up the spoon, he continued after the short pause. He tried to hit just the head of the spoon on her rear end, but several times as he was covering her left cheek, the stick of the spoon would also make contact. These swats were harder to take and she fought against the urge to squirm. He thought about how sick she had been yesterday and his irritation at her doing housework like that gave him the momentum to continue bringing the stick down harder and harder on her tender flesh. Her bottom burned and ached by the time he finally stopped again. Not wanting to move before he was ready to let her up, she lay there, breathing hard, but waiting and listening. He watched to see if she would wait for him and when he saw that she was willing to wait, he told her to stand up.

He took her then back onto his lap and when she winced at her bottom coming into contact with his legs, he said, "That's part of it, darlin'. You sit. You don't rub it away. You sit and feel it and know that I love you too much to let you get away with stuff that will make you feel guilty later."

She nodded her head on his shoulder and let her breathing get back to normal. The peace and closeness she felt to him right now filled her heart and she just sat there enjoying the emotions. After a time she turned to him with a suggestive smile and asked, "Are you ready for me to keep practicing being obedient? You could give me some other instructions and see if I can carry them out to your satisfaction," she purred, running her hands over his chest and arms while taking her time over the word "satisfaction".

He got the idea quickly enough. "Well, now that you mention it, you could probably use a bit more practice in obedience. How 'bout for starters, you go put on that nightie I got you last Valentine's Day?" He chuckled as she grinned and went to practice a very different sort of obedience.

Copyright © 2007 by Christian DD Group.