Sunday, 11 January 2015

Sunday, January 11, 2015 - ,

Pas De Deux

a spanking dance for two
by Lawrence Harwood
Published: Nov 6, 2014
Words: 34,353
Category: domestic discipline, romance
Orientation: mixed
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Entrée: Coin Toss

A few years ago Laura and Edward sat at the table wondering how to respond to each other. Earlier, they had opened the letter from the bank. They were going broke: they both had good jobs, they both earned good bonuses, and they both had the habit of spending twelve hundred dollars every time they earned an extra thousand. The discussion soon turned into an argument, and when that solved nothing, they fought.

This one was the fight of the century; later on, they joked that they should have sold tickets. They spared no feelings as they tongue-lashed each other - his height, her weight, every one of the in-laws, family members and their perceived faults, ancient history, ancient wounds, spending habits. Nothing was sacred, and nothing was left out. Never in their lives had they ever experienced the viciousness that unrestrained argument can bring - perhaps they had enjoyed sheltered childhoods - nothing in their two years of marriage or the two decades of life prior to that happy event had prepared them for the sort of wounding, cutting words they were throwing at each other.

Neither one had raised a hand. There was no need: the sheer viciousness of her verbal attacks made him physically ill, while his left her bereft and forlorn, crying pitiful, anguished tears. Their physical agonies finally brought them a blessed respite from argument. It is impossible to hurl insults when unable to draw breath.

They were as punch-drunk fighters in the prize-ring, seeking the safety of a neutral corner. She tottered into the powder room, wanting to dry her eyes and repair her makeup; he staggered to the closet, found a suitcase, and started packing some clothes.

Laura snarled at him. "Don't you dare walk out of here, mister. We're married, remember? For better, or for worse. This was one of the worst. Now it's time we make it better."

Edward glared back at her. "Right, so what do you do now? Wave a wand? Will that make it better?"

Her eyes flashed with sudden fury. "Wave a wand? Wave a wand?! What I ought to wave is my hand, right across your face!"

He interrupted her. "No one's slapping any faces, Laura; what ought to be slapped is your bottom." She gasped in horror, remembering her parents' discipline. "You know you deserve it."

"You deserve it just as much as I do!" she shrieked. "How dare you say those horrible things! How dare you call me all those awful names! You're the one who needs a spanking, Edward, and I'm just the one to give it to you."

He folded his arms. "You're screaming again, Laura. I thought you wanted to make it better?" He started to walk out of the room, but she stood in his way. "I'm not going to fight any more," he told her. "Not today. I can't stand this.