HOT CROSS BUNS

Hot cross buns!
Hot cross buns!
One wallop, two wallop,
hot cross buns!

 

Marcie slid into the passenger seat, shivering slightly with a mixture of cold, trepidation and euphoria. She jumped when Bill slammed the car door shut behind her, and then watched him anxiously as he walked around to the driver’s side and got in. His lips were set in a firm line and a muscle in his jaw twitched furiously. Marcie knew that he was livid, and she also knew that it was her actions that had him fuming. A violent shudder shook her. Bill, with his inimitable attentiveness and remarkable ability to discern her frame of mind from even the least perceptible of her movements, noticed her shudder and turned to study her for a moment. His eyes searched hers. She felt the ever-present ache within her growing and spreading throughout her body, permeating every part of her all the way down to her fingers and toes.

Why had she done it? It gave her no pleasure or satisfaction to wound him. She loved him so much it hurt; yet she intentionally did these things in an effort to get this reaction from him. Was it because she knew that during these moments she was the sole object of all of his thoughts and feelings, and hoped that he would become as obsessed with her as she was with him? There was nothing in the world she craved so much as to have all his energies focused on her like this; no matter that she had hurt him to achieve it, or what the consequences might be for it later.

Marcie shifted in her seat in anticipation of the discomfort to come, aware that Bill noticed her movement and knew the reason for it. The drive home seemed interminably long. She found her thoughts drifting back to the very beginning of this extraordinary life they shared together.

She had fallen positively head over heels in love with Bill after only four months of knowing him. She could not resist the way he cared for her; always touching her, inquiring about her interests and feelings with genuine interest, and remembering her answers in minute detail, opening doors for her, and especially the way he looked at her. His attentive manner was like a soft caress to her harried mind, and she felt protected and soothed by his very presence.

In spite of all this, Marcie was, even back then, keenly aware of a subtle authority in Bill’s bearing that all at once aroused and terrified her. Good things were not generally said about men who were controlling of women, and the very idea was appalling after women had struggled to come so far. Yet when the control was laced with genuine concern and such tender loving care…

Marcie was tremendously attracted to Bill’s strong, take-charge manner from the start, but she began to wonder about his feelings for her when several months passed and he still hadn’t tried to get her into bed. She began to think that perhaps his controlling nature was enacted to cover other deficiencies. Either that or he was truly in full command of his mind and body and was intentionally waiting until the right moment. Marcie’s attraction for him continued to grow while she waited to find out which of these was the case.

The answer came one night Bill took Marcie to a very posh restaurant, where the waiters spoke in hushed tones and the guests followed suit. They were seated at a table in the center of the room, chosen by Bill, and surrounded on all sides by sophistication and elegance and quiet.

Up to that point, Bill had made no effort whatsoever to seduce Marcie. Now his eyes sparkled as he reached across the table to capture one of her hands in his. He caressed her skin sensually as they simply smiled at each other. She felt certain that this was the moment she was waiting for, but she remained outwardly composed, curious to see how Bill would carry it off. She knew him well enough by this time to realize that he would reveal his wishes when he was ready, and in his usual direct but considerate manner that was so appealing to her. She blushed with anticipation as she keenly awaited his speech.

“You’ve probably wondered why I haven’t slept with you yet,” he began. She remained silent, unsure how to respond, so he went on, watching her face carefully as he spoke. “It’s not for lack of desire. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you,” he confessed, pleased by the deepening of her blush. “I’ve shown restraint because you may be reluctant to come to my bed once you hear what I have to say.” He said this in an exceedingly gentle and quiet tone, but his words might have been shouted at her for the excessive effect they had on her. Nevertheless, she rushed to contradict him.

“I don’t need—”

He cut her off before she could finish. “Don’t be quick to commit yourself,” he advised her. “You will want to know what you’re agreeing to before you acquiesce.” She gasped in surprise. He had caught her unawares, but even so, every word he uttered only seemed to make her ache for him all the more.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she admitted.

“Don’t you?” he asked with a strange smile. “From what you’ve experienced with me so far, what do you imagine it would be like if you were to become intimate with me?”

She thought about this for a moment while he waited patiently for her to reply. He, too, had been anticipating this exchange, and he wanted to savor every word and gesture from this long-awaited night. Marcie, meanwhile, was suddenly becoming aware of the man sitting across from her. She felt she was just now realizing something she had known from the first. Bill saw her eyes widen suddenly, revealing her emerging awareness, and he waited for her to speak. But she was unable to articulate this new understanding or what it meant in physical terms. The dim lights of the restaurant seemed unnaturally bright to her suddenly. Their waiter came and went, but she had no idea why.

Perceiving her uncertainty, Bill at last intervened to draw her out, squeezing her hand gently as he spoke soothingly to her. His voice was especially gentle, melding with the hushed tones all around them. Marcie vaguely realized that he had requested the center table for a reason, but she still wasn’t certain what that reason was. “This is not a test, Marcie,” he told her. “Your answer cannot be right or wrong if it is what you feel. Have you realized yet that things would be…different, with me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, knowing for a certainty that any intimacy she shared with Bill would indeed be quite different from any she had experienced before.

“How, Marcie?” Bill pressed her. “How will it be different with me?”

“We…I mean you…” The words were released in a stunted manner, but her embarrassment was slowly dissolving under his intense stare as she continued, “…will be…in…control.”

The light in his eyes glowed with his pleasure. He had not been mistaken. She did realize what was in store for her, even if she was not yet aware of all that it entailed.

“It’s more than control, Marcie,” he told her. “You have to know that I would dominate you.” She felt a stinging throb pierce the already soaking flesh between her legs when he said this. Heedless, he continued, “And I’m not just talking about in the bedroom. In all matters pertaining to our relationship I would make the decisions, though I would always take your wishes into consideration. And I would expect you to satisfy my wishes in return. And I would punish you when I felt it would benefit our relationship to do so.”

Marcie was stunned speechless, so he continued, “I can promise you that everything you wish to do outside of our relationship would be encouraged and supported by me one hundred percent. I love that you are a strong, independent woman. It is only in matters relating directly to our relationship that I would dominate you.”

There was silence. Marcie was still unable to find her voice. She stared at Bill while she struggled to identify the many emotions raging within her. It seemed she could feel her heart beating in every part of her body. Bill took a sip from his wineglass as he allowed her to digest all that he had said. Their meals were served but Marcie could not eat. She merely moved her fork over the food on her plate nervously. She knew that among the conflicting emotions within her there was arousal so potent it held her temporarily paralyzed. She struggled to gain control but failed.

Bill watched her, perceiving her struggle but not fully comprehending the reasons for it. “You haven’t said a word. What are you thinking?”

“I hardly know what to think right now,” she admitted. But she trembled and blushed and he attempted to read her body language.

He laughed lightly, saying, “Let me guess, my little speech turned you on but you’re afraid of me now, too.”

“Yes,” she admitted, laughing with him.

“Look, it’s nothing that out of the ordinary for a woman to fantasize about being dominated by a man during sex, but it’s a whole different story when you’re talking about this as a lifestyle. I want you to know what you’re getting into right up front.”

“I don’t know if I’m the right girl for you. I’m not the submissive type.”

“You’re the right girl,” he assured her confidently. His self-assured, masculine manner fanned the flames that were lapping at her insides. “The question is whether you’re ready to admit that this is what you want.”

“I’m not sure I understand what ‘this’ is.”

He spoke to her kindly, with interminable patience. “I’m not looking for some mindless ninny to obey my every command. I want a strong, independent woman with a mind of her own. I will control our relationship, but not because I am better or smarter or any of that. I will control it because I am stronger. I am willing and able to take responsibility for your happiness and my own.”

“But why couldn’t we share that responsibility?”

“We can, but when there is a conflict of some kind, or a final decision to be made it will be me who makes it. I’m not saying you can’t fight for your position…I hope you always do. I am merely warning you ahead of time that I will always win.”

“So you’re the sort of person who has to have his own way.”

“It’s not really about that, although that is true to a degree.” He paused, thinking of how to explain his position. “I know that you’re bright and I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. Believe it or not, I have already altered certain things in my life based on little things you have said. I can’t imagine not taking your feelings into consideration.”

She smiled when he said this. “Then where does the control come in?”

“You’re not going to like this next part,” he warned her. “But I have found women to be emotionally destructive to relationships when they are allowed to take the controls and dominate them. When the men in their lives are too weak to fight for what they know is right, the relationship is doomed. Next thing you know, these guys are cowering down and ‘yes dearing’ their women to death when the women aren’t even making any sense.” He put his hands up when he saw that she was going to object. “I don’t care if it’s politically incorrect or if I’m a jerk for saying it. This is what I believe. And although I would do anything for you if I thought it was in your best interest, I refuse to support destructive behavior. I particularly will not allow you to lure me into unnecessary conflict according to your moods.”

“What makes you so certain I would even do that?” she asked, defensive.

“I’m just warning you of what would happen if you do.”

“And that is?” she asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

“You would be punished.” He said this with a small smile, but his words carried a ring of irrevocability that Marcie did not miss.

“Punished…how?” It was getting difficult to keep her voice down but she managed, aware that people were seated at tables all around them. Suddenly she realized why Bill had situated them there.

“However I deemed appropriate,” he replied with an arrogant shrug.

Marcie couldn’t suppress a laugh, even though she was assailed by conflicting emotions. Outrage was now mingling amongst the still-potent arousal and various other sensations.

“You’re a wifebeater,” she accused him quietly. The obligatory soft tones forced her to be more explicit than she might have otherwise been.

“First of all,” he replied calmly, “I would never cause you physical harm or strike you in a way that could lead to physical harm. Second, I would never lay a hand on you unless you agreed ahead of time to accept the fact that I might do so. That is why I am having this conversation with you. Third, you would be the one who controlled whether or not you were punished, if you think about it. You would know ahead of time that if you acted destructively, I would punish you.”

“…without causing me physical harm,” she finished for him.

“Exactly.” He smiled.

“Why?” she asked.

“Sometimes a person has to be willing to take control. And often taking control can get physical. If you want to be with me, Marcie, you are going to have to come to me in my home, and on my terms. You can stay forever if you want to, but for as long as you stay, you will always have to remember that I am the head of that household. I am the last word. I want you there, I will take very good care of you and I might even change a little for you, too, but if things get out of hand I will be the one to put them back on track.”

Marcie stared at him, stunned. She felt a grudging respect for him even though she immensely disliked the things he was saying. Her desire, however, still reigned uppermost in her consciousness. She found herself wondering what being “punished” by him would be like.

“It’s dishonesty that I am really trying to avoid here,” Bill continued with her silence. “I will never betray you behind your back because I have allowed you to emasculate me to my face. If you agree to share your life with me, you will see that you will enjoy the simple truth I have presented to you here much more than you would have enjoyed the more traditional way people deal with each other.”

Marcie was torn. She could definitely see that he made some very truthful and enticing points. The talk of punishment had shocked her but by no means turned her off. Bill seemed even more masculine and strong to her, in fact, and she felt an instinctual craving curling up from deep within her. On the other hand, it was all terribly frightening, too, if for no other reason than it was so unorthodox. She wished the throbbing desire between her legs would quiet down enough so that she could think more clearly.

“Perhaps I should give you more time to think about it,” Bill suggested, perceiving her uncertainty. “It is extremely important that you realize what you will be getting into. You have to be in full agreement about this from the very beginning.”

“Putting aside the punishment part of it—assuming I behave myself—” she blushed when she said this “—in other respects, when you say you will dominate me, what do you mean exactly?” she asked.

“My decisions in our relationship will be final. I will use force when necessary. That doesn’t mean I expect you to simply ‘obey’ me without a fight. I expect you to fight. I would enjoy the fight in fact. But I will not patronize you. You will lose.”

She felt a titillating thrill so powerful that she shuddered when she heard these words from him. She seemed to recall wishing once that she could find a man who wouldn’t cower from the sight of an angry woman. Men had always found her intimidating. She wondered how Bill would handle her at her most extreme moments.

Bill paid the waiter with a self-assured ease that Marcie was all at once admiring and envious of. He was fully composed while she was aching with desire for him. In that instant she knew that she would be going home with him for that night at the very least, whatever the consequences.

“I don’t need more time to think about it,” she announced boldly.

Bill took her hand in his and led her out of the restaurant. They drove to his house in silence, a comfortable silence where both sat thinking their own individual thoughts. Marcie trembled in anticipation of what was to come. She had never participated in any sexual activities that deviated from the norm. She had never been tied up, or spanked, for example, although she had read about such things, and they always left her fascinated and aroused. Yet she knew that she would never be the one to suggest them. Even to acquiesce had been terribly difficult and embarrassing. She stole a glance at Bill and he smiled, reaching over to take her hand firmly into his.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she replied, looking away. He gently squeezed her hand.

“Good,” he said. “Because we’re here.”

Bill’s house was just as Marcie would have imagined it. Straight, masculine lines formed rooms that were bathed in hushed brown hues that clashed delightfully with the spatter of cold, steel-gray accessories that were spread throughout. All was in perfect order and exceedingly clean. The stark surroundings were made considerably more bearable by the disorderly encroachment of overgrowth that flowed out from the tropical plants that were placed about everywhere.

“It needs a woman’s touch,” Bill admitted when she only stared all around her in silence. She had been thinking how intimidatingly perfect it already was.

“Would you like a tour?” he asked her.

Marcie followed Bill around his large house, noticing that he saved the bedroom for last. She shuddered suddenly as she stepped over the threshold into that room, thinking perhaps to find items of bondage within, and was even mildly disappointed to find nothing at all out of the ordinary in sight.

Bill approached her straightaway, taking her face in his hands and tipping her head back slightly for his impending kiss. His tongue penetrated her mouth with authority as his hands moved persuasively through her hair. Marcie had the comforting awareness that she was not expected to perform or impress or put forth any effort at all. Quite the contrary, she had only to allow Bill to take matters in hand and see to it that they both were fulfilled. She wasn’t certain how she knew this, but that didn’t matter. The feeling didn’t appear to require substantiation in order to provide the incredible sense of bliss and well-being that came along with it. The feeling persisted and grew as Bill’s caress meandered lower to glide along her shoulders and back, deftly finding the zipper to her dress and effortlessly easing it open. It was as if all the self-consciousness and pressure of the event were being stripped away from Marcie’s body along with her clothing. All that remained was a feverish anticipation for what was to come and a genuine sense of freedom to experience it in absolute contentment.

When she was completely naked Bill lifted her into his arms and placed her onto the bed. He stood over her, drinking in the sight of her, while he removed his own clothing. She lay trembling before him, instinctively knowing not to cover any part of herself with her hands, or in any way try to hide herself from his gaze. He took his time undressing, and the possessive aspect with which he perused her naked body made her gasp. When he pulled off his pants she saw that he was fully aroused.

Bill joined Marcie on the bed, immediately capturing her lips in a passionate but exceedingly tender kiss. She was somewhat distracted and even mildly dismayed that there didn’t appear to be any dominating or punishing forthcoming—for her curiosity had been peaked by his disclosure in the restaurant—but these thoughts were quickly being diminished by the overpoweringly gentle seduction of his kiss. She was once again enthralled by the self-assured yet considerate manner that originally captured her heart. Bill’s confidence and strength seemed to become more pronounced with his mild handling of her. His earlier words were nearly forgotten but not entirely, for there were little reminders that thrilled her imagination and left her wondering. There was a conviction and determination in nearly everything he did, from the way he held her hands so carefully in his that she barely registered that she was actually being restrained in his iron grip, to the way his fingers gently titillated her tender labia while surreptitiously prying them apart. Slowly and methodically, his will became her own.

Marcie could do little more than cling to Bill as he skillfully and persuasively mastered her body. He took his time discovering all the little nuances of pleasuring her, gauging not only the places she liked best to be touched, but also the intensity and pressure that she preferred as well. Marcie lay back in a kind of delirious stupor, thoroughly captivated by Bill’s seductive efforts on her behalf. He used his fingers, and then his lips and tongue, to lure her into a state of utter arousal. Once he had her fully impassioned, he let his tongue roam leisurely over her clitoris, again and again; pattering and prodding it until she felt the molten waves of exquisite pleasure roll over her. She cried out in stunned surprise.

Once this first passion had passed, Marcie lay dazed and pliant as Bill moved up over her and lovingly took her into his embrace. Forgotten for the moment were all thoughts of dominance as Marcie’s body melted around him. He made love to her with such thoughtfulness and consideration that it was impossible to imagine him any other way. Marcie fell in love with him all over again.

And for the first few weeks of their being intimate together, Marcie could not imagine anything more wonderful than being with Bill. He was attentive, loving, kind and caring. He spared no expense to indulge her every whim. There were no disputes. How could there be when everything was exactly as she wished it? They talked for hours without end, and still he wanted to know more about her. He seemed to really understand her, continually amazing her with his insight. He cared for her better than she cared for herself. He accepted her. There was no part of her that he did not embrace.

One of the things that impressed Marcie most about Bill through this period of intense intimacy was that he always approached every matter that was set before him with integrity. He was a man who stood up for what he believed in. It was not just his integrity in and of itself but the way in which he fulfilled it. He was thoughtful, firm and inexorable, acting with such strength and grace that it enchanted Marcie to observe him. Even more importantly it cemented her trust in him. He was not pushy or arrogant, but loving and kind. Had he been less loving, perhaps his gentle authority would have seemed more interfering and dominating. But if he in fact dominated her, she was not aware of it, except perhaps in the bedroom. He was becoming a more demanding lover, but she adored the attention, and so far it worked out in her favor, causing her to feel desired and needed, and making her ego soar.

But even as they grew closer, Marcie became increasingly overwhelmed by the sheer impressiveness of Bill, and over time a subtle voice began presenting doubts to her mind, intent on sabotage. Joined with this was a mild resentment of his unwavering self-assuredness throughout her own self-doubt and inner conflicts. She began seeking something that could transform her fears and insecurities from mere conjecture to reality.

One day, in this kind of a mood, Marcie wandered up into Bill’s attic and began sifting through boxes, yielding at last to her accumulating suspicions and doubts. The more commonplace the items she found there, the more she felt—rather than relief—frustration. She scanned the items that marked Bill’s former life contemptuously, certain that they must be concealing something she had a right to know about.

At last her eyes fell upon a clump of letters that were held together by an elastic band. She pulled one out and began to read it. After that another one followed, and then another. She was not surprised to find that they were love letters. They appeared to be remnants of a long-distance relationship from the past. They were all addressed to Bill and sent by the same woman. Marcie tried to glean what Bill’s feelings had been for the woman by the inferences she made in her letters. She wondered why Bill kept the letters. Did this woman still mean something to him? More questions and doubts assailed her thoughts. She felt intense jealousy for the woman and fumed over the deductions she was making from what the woman had written.

By the time Bill returned home to her that night, Marcie was fuming with righteous indignation. All her insecurities and doubts had found an outlet through her anger. Even so, she knew she could hardly accuse him for something that had happened in the past—especially something she had no right to know about. This, too, irritated her; the fact that she must suffer with her new knowledge silently, knowing all the while that he was clinging to the memory of a woman from his past—this was one of the deductions she had made.

Bill noticed her mood instantly, although she was attempting to remain aloof. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, ignoring her attempts to move away from him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, holding her close and examining her face.

Bill’s nearness was not conducive to Marcie’s bad mood, but she couldn’t extricate herself from his embrace without being openly hostile, so she turned her head casually and said the mysteriously magic word that had always worked wonders for her in the past. “Nothing.”

But Bill refused to take the bait, holding her fast. “I asked you what was wrong and I would like an answer,” he said matter-of-factly.

Marcie bristled. “And I said there was nothing wrong!”

“Okay, I’ll take you at your word,” he said good-naturedly. “So this is just a bad mood then?” He continued to hold her and meanwhile kept looking at her, searching her expression for the answer he sought.

“How dare you!” His reasonableness was antagonizing.

“I dare because you’re clearly upset while insisting that there’s nothing wrong. I can only assume from that behavior that you’re in a bad mood. Is it or is it not the case?”

Marcie was becoming frustrated. This was not going the way she expected it to. She reminded herself that she was the one who was injured and tried to regain control of the situation.

“Am I a machine that has to smile all the time?”

“Not at all,” he said. “If you’re in a bad mood just say so. But I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re upset about something. If you’re upset, and especially if it’s with me, that gets me involved and puts the ball in my court.”

Marcie was becoming even more frustrated. She had never met the man who would not retreat guiltily in the face of an outraged woman, effectively surrendering under the confusion of it all and graciously granting her the advantage she sought. Her anger continued to escalate, even as her respect for him increased—or perhaps it was because her respect for him had increased. She once again felt the disturbing mixture of admiration and envy amongst the many other emotions.

“You’re so full of yourself!” she erupted, raising her voice. “Everything has to be about you.”

He laughed at that. “Last chance to tell me if there is something bothering you,” he said, remaining fully self-composed and utterly unperturbed by her outburst.

“Go to hell.”

In the next instant Bill picked her up and, before she was even aware of what was happening, he had slung her over his shoulder. Outraged, she kicked and screamed and jerked about wildly, trying desperately to get him to put her down. He laughed once again at her outburst, holding her tightly so that she could neither hurt him nor escape. He carried her into the bedroom and placed her carefully down on the bed. Then he got into the bed and climbed on top of her, gently restraining her. He was still amused by her struggles, chuckling softly as he easily subdued her. His indulgent reaction and patient resolve seemed to encourage her to fully let loose with all the pent-up aggression she didn’t even know she possessed. She thrashed about vehemently, really trying to hurt him in her fury. But Bill controlled her effortlessly. Having captured her flailing arms, he held them firmly together, above her head, with one of his hands.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said in a maddeningly calm voice. His unruffled composure, more than his words, inflamed her even more, and she thrashed about on the bed even more violently than before; but to no avail. Bill held her fast and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. “Easy now,” he said in a tone one might use with a wild animal. He waited until her energies were spent and her fighting stopped.

“Let go of me,” she then demanded.

“Not yet,” he said.

To Marcie’s dismay she began to cry. “Please let go of me!”

“I haven’t gotten you figured out yet,” he said contemplatively. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I intend to get to the bottom of it.” Marcie was alarmed by his words. Meanwhile her skirt had risen up during her struggles and Bill was slipping his free hand up her thigh. He wiggled a few fingers inside the leg band of her panties. “What’s this?” he asked her, smiling, when he discovered that she was wet. Marcie was more surprised than he was by this discovery. Bill continued to stroke her for a moment but then, to her dismay, he took his hand away to quickly remove his tie. He then used the tie to secure her hands, which he had kept hold of the entire time with his other hand, to the bed.

Marcie searched her mind for the right words and realized suddenly that she had no idea what to think, let alone say. The truth was, she was genuinely conflicted about what was happening to her.

Bill, in the meantime, was sliding her panties down, handling her kicking legs with ease as he situated himself in between them. He picked up her legs and spread them wide apart, holding them securely in midair with his strong hands. Once she was restrained in this manner, he leaned in between her trembling legs to kiss and lick her tenderly. He had learned many different ways to please her with his tongue, and he employed every single one of them now, painstakingly, and at an unhurried pace. Pretty soon Marcie was crying out with pleasure and gyrating her hips with the rhythmic motion of his tongue. He skillfully brought her to the very precipice of her climax, and then abruptly stopped before she was fully satisfied. Marcie watched him in stunned silence as he got up and began to undress. She noticed he was fully aroused and she began to ache with anticipation. She thought she ought to protest but most of her previous anger had completely abandoned her. He returned to the bed and once again moved between her legs.

“What are you going to do?” she asked stupidly.

“I’m trying to help you feel better. I don’t know what set you off yet, but let’s just get you feeling better first.”

She was astounded. She had absolutely no idea what to think. His words rekindled her anger, even as they sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her. She wanted him to make love to her, but she didn’t want to yield to him. In her confusion she found herself halfheartedly resisting Bill as he approached her, making feeble attempts to kick him.

“Enough,” he said firmly, but without anger. He rested himself between her legs without entering her, gently kissing her face and in between kisses searching her eyes. “What’s going on with you, Marcie?”

Marcie couldn’t begin to explain what was happening inside her, so she remained silent. More than anything at that moment, she wished Bill would simply make love to her, but she could hardly say so. When the silence became too much for her, she moved her hips against him enticingly.

“Say it,” he told her.

“Say what?”

“Tell me that you want me to make love to you.”

“I don’t care what—”

He cut her off. “Look. I can see you’re upset about something that you don’t want to talk about. I can also see that you’re very turned on and it is my opinion it would be good for us both to make love now. However, we haven’t fully established the rules yet, and I want to make sure we understand each other. You don’t feel like being agreeable or working things out. Okay. I’m more than willing to take charge of the situation, but you have to agree ahead of time to let me take charge and to trust me, whatever I decide to do.”

Marcie stared at Bill in stunned silence.

With her silence Bill continued patiently, “We spoke of this already in the restaurant, so you must have known this moment would come. It’s here, but I need your consent. You have to tell me that you trust me to take control of you—that you want me to take control of you.”

She realized suddenly that she did want Bill to take control, but she still couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

Bill sighed with her continued silence, but his tone remained calm and tender. “Either you agree to trust me, and give me free rein to do what I think is best for us, or I’ll untie you now and you can get up, get dressed, leave here and never come back.”

Marcie was both alarmed and hurt by his words. But she could not, in truth, say that she was entirely surprised. Bill had given her ample warning of his position, through not only words but actions. Throughout their time together, there was a clear leadership being established by him, and she had reveled in it. Until now.

Marcie was further confounded by Bill’s proximity. Their bodies were pressed together, although he was careful not to lean his full weight on her. She marveled over how he always thought of even the smallest detail of her comfort and well-being. There was never a moment when her needs were not put as high in priority, or higher, than his own. Yet to give up control over her body and just hand it over to him carte blanche! But to get up and leave was too painful to consider.

Marcie did not like the position she was in one bit. Bill seemed to read her mind.

“I see that you don’t like to compromise when you’re upset.” He still spoke to her calmly and with genuine kindness in his voice, although there was frustration there, too. “That is precisely why I want the authority to take control—so I can take over when you get like this. It will allow you to be as angry and unreasonable as you want, knowing I’ll take care of us until you come around. I’m not going to allow you to dictate our relationship based on your moods. I thought I made this clear.”

Marcie was once again torn between grudging respect, admiration and anger. Bill’s words inflamed each of the emotions in question. She realized he was right about her unwillingness to compromise when she was feeling the way she did now. His mastery over his own emotions astounded her.

Taking her continued silence for refusal, he abruptly untied her. “Get dressed.”

Had this been happening with any man other than Bill, Marcie would have got up and stormed out without a second thought, assured in the knowledge that he would come around eventually and that she would not only have kept her pride intact but also managed to make him suffer as much as she had. But she knew for a certainty that Bill would do no such thing, and she felt a sudden panic.

“No!” she cried vehemently.

He looked at her expectantly. She saw that he was losing patience with her. She was suddenly contrite, but terribly self-conscious and still hesitant.

“I do trust you,” she admitted finally.

“And?”

She sighed in frustration. “What do you want from me?”

“I want your consent to take control of you when I think it is necessary. I want full control, over you and me.”

“Okay.” She realized faintly that she still wasn’t one hundred percent clear about what she was consenting to. And yet she really did trust Bill. The uncertainty over what he would do to her once he took control didn’t bring fear but anticipation.

“Okay what?”

“I give you my consent.”

“Do I have your full consent to take absolute control of you and your body?”

Marcie nodded. New little pangs of sharp desire pierced the already engorged flesh between her legs.

“Say it.”

“You have my full consent to take absolute control of me and…my body.” She could hardly believe she had just spoken the words.

He smiled. “Thank you,” he said. He took her face in his hands and waited for her eyes to meet his. She desperately wanted the discussion to be over and for him to resume the lovemaking, but he was not quite finished. “You’ve crossed a line with this agreement,” he told her. “It has advanced our relationship to the next level. In the future you can be as unreasonable and out of control as you want and know that I’ll protect us and our relationship. At any time if you want to take back your consent you may do so, but know that it will end our relationship.”

“You obviously don’t care about me at all if you can so easily threaten to end our relationship,” she protested, suddenly bursting into tears.

He held her in his arms and patiently waited for her to stop crying. “I care a great deal for you,” he said, embracing her more securely. “There are actually very few things you could do that would make me end this relationship,” he told her. “You can do pretty much whatever you wish and express yourself in any way you like, but always know that I will do what has to be done to protect you, me and us.”

Marcie had stopped crying so he gently laid her back down on the bed and, without further ado, began making love to her. He kissed away her tears as he took her tenderly into him. “Hush, now,” he soothed, and she clung to him. She became more feverish in her lovemaking as a result of all the pent-up emotions that had been raging inside her. She found herself thrashing against him, even as she simultaneously clutched him to her. She became almost ferocious in her struggle to achieve the satisfaction she sought.

“That’s it,” Bill encouraged her. “Get it all out here and now.” He spread kisses all along her lips and cheeks and neck as he lovingly consoled her. He easily controlled her unruly body as she fully succumbed to her passion, gently restraining her when she became too aggressive. All the while he moved in and out of her with long, even strokes, allowing her free rein to use his body as it pleased her best to do.

Marcie was feverish with thoughts of being dominated and all that that might entail, but thus far Bill had seen fit to be lenient, and frustration mingled and interacted with the other emotions that were scourging through her for an explosive effect. She imagined his strong hands, which up to this point had done little more than subdue her, actually turning against her to dominate and punish, and she screamed as her orgasm tore through her. Spurred on by her intense response, Bill climaxed right after her.

Afterward, Marcie felt as if she was immersed in a warm bath of tranquillity. She had never in her life felt so close to another person.

She thought about her earlier upset, and reflected that her anger was rather like a ravenous beast when it reared its ugly head. She had often allowed it to control her and those around her, never knowing how else to appease it. Certainly no man she had encountered before Bill had known how to manage it. For that matter, no man had ever even dared make the attempt. Bill had not only dared and succeeded, but he had actually accepted the beast within her. Still, Marcie was confused by her conflicting desires to both need and be self-sufficient.

But her thoughts were interrupted by Bill, who had not quite finished with the beast.

“Do you feel like talking about what upset you earlier?” he asked, still holding her tightly to him.

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“It matters to me if something is making you unhappy. If not, then, well, no, I suppose it doesn’t matter at all.”

Suddenly her earlier annoyance seemed ludicrous to her. Still under the spell of the intimacy they had just shared, she blurted out the cause of it.

When she finished, Bill leaned up over her so he could look down into her face. “You went through the boxes in my attic?” he asked in disbelief.

Her calm began giving way to dismay and she immediately regretted telling him. “Oh, God,” she said.

“It’s okay, Marcie,” he reassured her. “But, why?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I felt like I needed to.”

“Were you already upset when you went up there?”

“Well…yes.”

“So you were looking for something to fight about.”

“I…oh, can we just forget about it?”

He laughed at her in spite of himself. “That’s the kind of thing that would normally get you a good, hard spanking,” he told her with good humor. “But I’m feeling rather indulgent tonight.”

She balked at his words, but apprehension and new desire simmered beneath the hazy afterglow she was basking in.

After that night there was no denying that clear boundaries had been set, which Marcie loved and hated, both at the same time. She loved the sense of security she got from Bill’s gentle care and attentiveness, and deeply admired his strength and confidence. She was strongly attracted to his positive energy; there was no job too tough for him to tackle, and no problem he wouldn’t address head-on. She respected him immensely. She adored his power and melted in his tenderness. The only thorn in her side was the missing control that she had so readily handed over to him. Although it never really came up in the normal course of their lives she could not help thinking about it. There had not even been another incident where it had come into play since the night she relinquished it, but this did not stop her from thinking about the fact that it was no longer hers. There was something demeaning in it, as if she was not able to manage her own emotions and behavior.

In due time, for reasons she couldn’t even fully explain, Marcie felt herself longing to challenge the subtle authority that Bill had developed over her. She felt strangely shackled by her contentment. Too, on the back burner, there simmered the tantalizing memory of how he had responded to her defiance on that previous occasion, actually seeming to taking pleasure in it and the battle that followed. She could not forget the exquisite struggle and all that came afterward, even including his gentle but firm mastery of her. Nor could she forget his offhand remark that her behavior might get her “a good, hard spanking.” She wasn’t entirely certain that he had been fully serious about this, but it continued to wear at her consciousness.

The moment of truth came one day when Marcie woke up feeling particularly out of sorts. In her present state of mind, the more challenging tasks of the day seemed overly disastrous to her. She had the sense that everything was working against her and she became more and more exasperated. The frustrations of her day crept under her skin and seeped into every part of her consciousness. They settled over her like thick thunderclouds, further darkening her outlook. An overall resentment arose and joined her malaise. Such was her disposition when she encountered Bill at the end of that day.

Bill sensed Marcie’s mood immediately, and he became especially considerate. But she had passed the point where she could easily let go of the pain she was feeling. She was going to feel bad, and that was that. Furthermore, her mood had reached the stage where every action and occurrence could only further inflame her, especially Bill’s inexhaustible composure.

“You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves,” she snapped at him, painfully aware of his efforts on her behalf. He merely raised an eyebrow at this. His lips twitched in an effort not to smile. This irritated her even more. Was there nothing that could rile him?

She began slamming things around the kitchen in preparation for dinner.

“Let’s go out to eat,” he suggested, not missing the point of the racket.

“I don’t feel like going out,” she replied shortly.

“Then I’ll order in.”

“I can manage,” she insisted, but her tone was laced with martyrdom.

“That wasn’t a suggestion. I am ordering in. Do you have any preferences?”

Marcie tightened her grip on the pan she was holding in her hand. Even though she was in no mood to cook and loved having food brought in, she was, for the moment, more preoccupied with an almost perverse desire to upset him. His control was making her feel entirely out of control. “Fine!” she snapped, lifting the pan off the burner and throwing it violently into the sink, causing a thunderous clash that startled even her.

“No preferences,” he murmured, picking up the phone and calmly ordering dinner for them. “I don’t want it right away,” he added to the person on the other end. “Deliver it in a few hours, say, around seven-thirty.”

Marcie felt a twinge of excitement when she heard him say this—in spite of her bad temper. Even so, when Bill hung up the phone and looked at her, she said testily, “I’m not in the mood, so you may as well have had it delivered right away.”

He actually laughed at her. “If you think I delayed dinner to make love to you after what you just pulled you have another think coming,” he said. “You’re going to have to apologize to me first. Anyway, I have something else in mind.”

Marcie’s heart thudded violently as Bill approached her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Oh, I think you know,” he said, abruptly picking her up and easily slinging her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” she screamed. She kicked furiously with her feet and pummeled his back with her hands. He remained unperturbed, holding her firmly, and occasionally erupting into laughter over one of her efforts, causing her to struggle even harder. He held her legs securely with one hand while his other hand came up to caress the round fullness of her bottom. Then he raised that hand up and brought it back down, hard, on one plump buttock. Marcie screeched, once again remembering his words from that earlier struggle, where he threatened a “good, hard spanking.” She screamed again and beat on his back all the harder.

Bill, meanwhile, took her into their bedroom and dropped her onto the bed. She immediately flipped herself over—onto her back—and tried to get up, but he was too quick for her, grasping her arms and immediately turning her back onto her stomach the way he had originally set her there. Then he swiftly got onto the bed and straddled her, barricading her legs between his own. She was fully pinned beneath him.

Marcie continued to make a great effort to get away from him, in spite of the futility of it, wiggling and squirming and kicking and screaming. She was startlingly aware of his strength and energy as he held her. He secured both of her wrists with one strong hand and held them fast, even as he began lifting her skirt with his other hand. He did all this leisurely, playing with her, and actually enjoying her efforts to escape him. When her skirt was brought up around her waist, Marcie began her struggles anew, thrashing and bucking violently in an effort to throw Bill off of her. All the while she alternated between screaming and crying and flat out ordering him to stop. She held nothing back—something inside her knew she didn’t have to—and Bill, very gradually, as it suited him to do so, subdued her.

When Bill had effectively restrained Marcie, having raised her skirt and lowered her panties, he began striking her buttocks with his bare, open hand, landing the blows hard with loud, resounding thwacks. Marcie screamed and fought like something out of the wild. Her whole body struggled in vain to escape his large, firm hands.

The spanking was not overly painful, but the blows were leveled with enough force to cause the flesh to sting and smart, leaving it sore and tender after the fact. The use of his bare hand instead of another object seemed exceedingly intimate somehow, and she was likewise jarred by the disparity of being struck by the hands that were usually so gentle and accommodating, and which normally brought her pleasure. She was aware, too, of the control Bill once again maintained, for she realized instinctively that his hand struck only hard enough to hurt her on the surface, rather than to actually injure her. That was the crux of the matter, really, that the worst part of it was the violation to her ego. Bill wasn’t just punishing her; he was subduing her.

Marcie was panting from her exertions to fight Bill off, more winded than she had ever been. These exertions made her feel strangely alive, with every molecule pulsating vigorous energy. All her emotions of that day, the anger, fear, resentment and so forth, rushed together in a sudden spark that burned hot and then dissipated. And always lingering in the back corner of her mind was the awareness of Bill’s ultimate strength and control, not just physically, but emotionally, too. Coming together with that awareness was the realization that she needed Bill to a degree that actually frightened her. At some point it occurred to her that her struggles, which she knew all along were in vain, were actually for her own benefit and indulgence. All the horrible sentiments that had been building up inside her throughout the day were disappearing; yet somehow she couldn’t help feeling that she was losing a part of herself, too.

Marcie suddenly burst into tears, abandoning her struggles and weeping loudly in defeat. Bill stopped spanking her and took her in his arms. She clung to him with a raw need that left her feeling wide open and exposed. Her defenses had all been stripped away and she seemed incapable of getting them back. Her buttocks were sore and exceedingly warm. She wept cleansing tears, while Bill held her close, kissing her tears and tenderly hushing her cries.

Somehow, inexplicably, Marcie was no longer weeping tears of frustration but crying out with passion, suddenly kissing Bill hungrily while clinging to him in desperation. It was like a first, long-awaited kiss that took away her very breath. She gave herself to him completely, fully lost in her desire. It consumed her absolutely, and she could not have stopped herself from being swept up in the tide of it even if she had wanted to. But she had no thoughts of stopping. The spanking had broken down her emotional barriers, and it had shattered any remaining physical barriers as well. The sharp, stinging pain had awakened and warmed her flesh and the resulting heat had radiated into her womb, causing it to expand and contract and open to him. Her body was overwhelmed with moist warmth and yearning.

Bill took all of this in stride with his usual composure. He seemed to know that this would be the end result of what he had done, and he reveled in his utter victory over Marcie. He hadn’t minded her angry words or her violent struggles. On the contrary, he was pleased; for without the struggle where was the victory? He felt his heart swell with love and desire for her. And he did not feel in the least remorseful over his treatment of her. Hadn’t he given her fair warning that this was the way it would be between them? For him, this was much more than mere domination. It was his fundamental belief that it was a necessary part of their relationship to keep it fresh and new, for it cleansed away all the pent-up resentment and insecurity. For him, it was a lifestyle. He hoped that Marcie felt the same. She had responded the way he had hoped she would in all that had occurred between them so far, but he feared that she might feel differently afterward. This life was not for every woman, nor certainly for every man. But he had grown attached to Marcie, his thoughts were all of her now, and he wondered how he would bear it if she changed her mind and left him. As if the fear had been realized he suddenly clung to her more violently, causing her to cry out in surprise.

Their subsequent lovemaking was passionate and their movements in sync. Marcie was soft and yielding and he took her gently at first, but in the end succumbed to the delicious power of taking what he wanted from his victory, plundering all that she offered and more. His strength, which had stripped her down earlier, now filled her with everything that she needed. His unrestrained passion ricocheted off hers as they virtually consumed each other. Every limb seemed entwined within another; they were so closely joined that Marcie lost track of where she ended and Bill began. At one point, they rolled together across the bed so that she was on top. This was what she liked best, as it gave her the power to move over him in exactly the way that stimulated her the most. As she began working her hips against him she felt no sense of separateness in her activity. It seemed they worked together as one and that Bill derived as much pleasure from her movements as she did herself. There was no sense of urgency or of being hurried; she gyrated against him without a single self-conscious thought. Her intimacy with Bill was unlike anything she had experienced so far in her life. She was ever aware of his unconditional acceptance and love as she ground herself vigorously against him in search of satisfaction. Without warning, a thunderous upsurge of pleasure burst through her, startling her in its intensity. Her release triggered his, and he came together with her. She collapsed over him when it was over and he held her close. She listened attentively to the solid thudding of his heart.

But as wonderful as the moment had been, Marcie felt confused. How could she accept Bill’s domination of her while she feared her loss of self?

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said, lightly drawing circles over her back with his fingertips.

“I’m afraid.”

“What of?”

She wasn’t sure, so she told him what she felt. “I feel like I’m losing myself.”

“Why do you feel that?”

She hesitated, not withholding from him, but with uncertainty. She had never felt so free to express herself before and she believed she could tell him anything. Still…“I don’t want to be tamed.”

In one swift, gliding movement he rolled her onto her back and came up over her so that he could look fully into her face. “I don’t want you tamed either.”

“But…”

“When I took over tonight, I did it in order to bring us closer together, not to tame you.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“But the spanking…” She was suddenly embarrassed. She couldn’t believe it had happened. That spankings occurred in the world of sexual submission she was well aware, but this was more like discipline. She shuddered at the implications.

“That was the best way I could think of to subdue you.”

“Right. That’s what I mean.”

“Okay, well, then we’re talking about something else. I didn’t spank you to change you, but to subdue you for that moment. I did it so my night would be more pleasant and because I believed yours would be, too. You were out of control. That doesn’t mean I expect you to change the way you are. I dominated you this time, in this moment. Next time, I hope you will fight just as hard, even though I’ll defeat you again.” He smiled an evil smile when he said this. His smile annoyed her, but only mildly.

“I’m not sure I get it.”

“Don’t you?” he asked. “Let me ask you this then, did you enjoy the struggle?”

“Well…”

“I did, too,” he said, knowing her answer already. “I loved it, in fact. It gave us both a chance to equalize things.”

“But that’s just it. I hate that you always get to win.”

“Do you? Don’t you expect me to win? I wonder if you would ever want me again if I lost even once.” She wondered, too, astounded by his reasoning. It was true that his power and strength, so displayed, was an enormous part of what attracted her to him. She was momentarily too sidetracked by the happiness she felt to concentrate fully on all the other things she was feeling.

“I love this honesty,” she admitted.

“Me, too. It’s so much better this way. That’s why I would never want to change you…or tame you, as you put it.” His hand continued to move over her skin possessively as he spoke to her in his gentle voice. “It’s kind of like a game, or a sport. If you were to let me win, where would the challenge be, or the fun? The struggle has to be real. For a man to truly dominate a woman he has to really be the stronger person, physically and emotionally. For a woman to submit to that man she has to genuinely feel that he has conquered her.”

Marcie thought about this as she snuggled up close to Bill and drifted off to sleep.

 

In time, when the novelty of their extraordinary lifestyle wore off and Marcie became more comfortable with the unconventional peculiarity of it, she was able to more carefully examine it. She was then able to discern what it was that had initially attracted her to Bill, and how she really felt about his dominance over her. That it enhanced their sex life, drawing out and developing her innermost sensuality, she realized from the start. What she wanted to understand more fully was what this way of life would mean to her emotionally.

Each and every time Marcie submitted to Bill’s dominance, one more barrier that she had built up over her lifetime came crashing down, and their intimacy grew. The things she believed in and wished for remained safe and intact, for she found that Bill did respect her, and he would even submit to her when it was in their best interest for him to do so. Marcie seemed to be growing stronger within herself with each capitulation in her relationship. As her trust in Bill continued to grow, she felt safer giving more of herself to him. The intimacy they shared inside the lifestyle was undeniably distinctive and outstanding.

Yet, even as their bond was strengthened, Marcie found that she would still become, at times, dissatisfied and unhappy. This was not exclusive to her relationship with Bill. It was simply the woman she was; hampered by the fears she had accumulated in her various experiences with men. In most of her past relationships, she would have acted on these feelings by simply pouting or blowing up, crying and ranting; using any recent occurrence that would serve as an excuse but really just needing to get her feelings out. But once the mood passed, she was left feeling empty and distant, with a wider expanse now to bridge in order to achieve intimacy. Her partners would often trudge back into her good graces miserably, never really understanding her or the reasons for their penitence, and the relationships would be marked for death. With Bill, she could rant, rave, cry or scream; knowing all the while that he would keep them safe, and even enjoy the challenge of it all while he did so. He had brought her to a place where she could express her feelings while all the while being accepted, loved, supported and protected. Even through the severest spankings, she knew that Bill was fully aware of her and her needs. He had been perfectly right when he told her that this kind of control had to be genuinely maintained. A man really did have to be exceptionally strong to pull it off. It was ludicrous to think that anyone could do it. If he had been a lesser man, she knew for a certainty the whole dominance thing would have bored her by now.

Instead, she was, overall, amazingly content and deeply involved. Bill was in nearly all her thoughts. And for days—and sometimes even weeks—after each submission, she walked around in a state of more or less constant arousal. Bill’s presence was, for her, desire itself. She sometimes felt that she loved him too much, and desired him too much, too. She wanted him to an extent that frightened her. And when the fear became too much for her she compensated by finding ways to draw out his need to dominate her.

Marcie’s thoughts came back to the present. After just over a year with Bill one would think she would have gotten past those fears. Bill had proved to her time and again that she was the priority in his life. He had made it more than clear that he would be there for her always. And she did not doubt it, not really. But the fear always returned, out of the blue, and often with such ferocity that it alarmed her. On this night she had merely glanced at him from across the crowded room and all at once it was there. His beauty and strength struck her like a terrible blow, and she felt horribly afraid. The other women at the party seemed so much more beautiful than her. She wondered if Bill noticed this, too, and she could imagine the soft, fluttering beauties yielding to his incredible determination and strength.

Marcie knew that she had gone too far this time, completely yielding to her insecurities and fears. She wondered if she had crossed one of the lines that Bill had warned her about that first night that he had dominated her. She kept asking herself why, cringing over the details of her behavior as the memories returned to harass her. She recalled her improprieties of that night in vivid detail. She had gone way beyond merely flirting with another man. She had thrown all concern for Bill’s feelings aside in an effort to temporarily make herself feel more desirable. She had done everything she could think of to prove to herself that she was as attractive as the other women in the room, hardly caring if she hurt Bill in the process. She had publicly and brazenly taunted and humiliated him, leaving everyone who witnessed her performance with the impression that she would betray him. And what had he done to her? What had he done at all, besides simply being the devastatingly wonderful person that he was?

Marcie stole another glance in Bill’s direction. His steadfast calm and inherent goodness shamed her. She didn’t need him to tell her that she had crossed a line this time. She knew that she had. Had he treated her the way she’d treated him, even in retaliation after the fact, with one of the many beautiful women there, she could not have borne it. She would never have the strength to quietly endure such treatment from him.

She realized suddenly that it was Bill’s strength that was most appealing. It drew her to him like a magnet. When something needed to be done, he did it. It didn’t matter if it was unpleasant, difficult, painful or disturbing. He simply did it. He could always be relied upon. It was as if he was made of steel. His strength staggered her. And the tenderness that he was able to show for her, notwithstanding his overwhelming strength, made it all the more remarkable. With his strength he had managed to hold their relationship together without ever once allowing her to draw him into her own personal conflicts. He never lost track of his objective, always standing his ground and maintaining the control once he made the decision to take it.

But Marcie feared this time was different. She wondered how Bill would handle it. She felt that she ought to step up and admit that she was wrong without him having to point it out to her. But what if he rejected her anyway? It suddenly occurred to her that love wasn’t about saving face.

“Bill,” she began uncertainly, “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” he said. He had calmed considerably since they had first gotten into the car. His anger was just about undetectable now. There wasn’t a trace of malice in his voice, only understanding.

“You must be angry,” she said.

“I am,” he agreed. She once again marveled over his control.

Suddenly she was terrified of losing him. “I was jealous of you,” she admitted. “Even if you never speak to me again, I want you to know that that other guy could have been a chair for all it mattered. I wanted to hurt you because I was jealous of you.” There was never a man in her life, before Bill, that she could have admitted this to. She felt that she could tell him anything.

“I figured it was something like that.” His voice was steady and thoughtful, but Marcie could not glean from it what he was feeling or how he felt about her now.

“I know I crossed a line tonight…” She could not go on. She waited for him.

“You certainly did, Marcie.” He pulled the car into their driveway. She was frantic to know where she stood.

“Is it over?” she asked. Tears filled her eyes.

Bill looked at her then. He raised his hand to her face, capturing a tear as it slowly crept down her cheek. “No.”

Marcie shut her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, letting the tears spill freely down her face. She began to weep quietly, overwrought with emotion.

Bill leaned over the seat to comfort her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her tears away. “It’s okay, Marcie,” he reassured her.

“I didn’t mean to,” she wept.

“I know you didn’t.”

“I love you so much.”

“I know you do.” He smiled at her. “Come on,” he said after giving her time to pull herself together. “Let’s go in.”

She couldn’t wait to be alone with him in their bedroom. Once inside she waited for him on the bed with growing anticipation. When he joined her she melted in his arms. But he did no more than hold her close to him.

“Aren’t you going to…punish me?” she wondered.

“Nope.”

She squirmed against him, signaling to him that she wanted to make love.

“Stop that,” he said, still keeping her close.

“You’re still angry with me?”

“Yes. And disappointed, too. Now go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” she told him.

“Then you can read or watch TV and I’ll sleep.” He loosened his hold on her when he said this, but when she didn’t move away he tightened it again.

She paused, frustrated and uncertain. “Bill.”

“Mmm?” His voice reflected his steady temperament and soothed her soul.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?”

He laughed, but immediately afterward turned serious. “Despite what you might think, Marcie, I’m only human. The truth is, I don’t know what to do at the moment. One thing I know for sure that I’m not going to do is to punish you or make love to you, because I know you want me to do those things.”

“That never stopped you before,” she pointed out.

“True, but you never crossed this line before. Everything else I can accept from you, but this I can’t. Maybe next time you think about pulling something like this you’ll remember that it didn’t get you what you wanted and it certainly didn’t bring us closer together. I really hope you do remember it, because I don’t see myself putting up with that again.”

Marcie thought about what he said. “Well, maybe this time I should be the strong one. Maybe this time I should take care of you.”

“You did already, in the car,” he told her, tightening his hold on her.

And suddenly everything was exactly as it should be. For her, there was nothing else that existed outside of her life here with Bill. She could be herself here, and that gave her a tremendous sense of self-worth. All the second-guessing and worry, all the insecurities and fears, were a waste of time. This was her life to live as she wished. She had found a place for herself with Bill.