DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, and all the characters.

Warning: Spanking of an adult in this chapter, and a great deal of talking about it.

Fishing Shack - Lessons Learned

Friday, July 08, 2011

We drove out to the countryside when Esme turned to me and enquired, " what about that fishing hut Brett Warner mentioned? He gave you an open invite; do you still have the keys?" I glanced to my wife curiously, as my thoughts remained in a chaotic state.

"I do have the key," I offered while gazing out the window. "His friend's cabin is just ahead a couple of miles." I gave her the address and considered the situation we now faced. My thirst began to nag at me, but my wife's words kept replaying in my mind. We pulled up to the small shack while I contemplated the situation I now found myself. Nobody was around, and it looked as if it had been that way since the weekend.

Esme glanced to the seatbelt indicator panel and noticed the passenger side remained unlit. She nibbled at her lower lip in worry, and with concern in her voice enquired, "Carlisle, are you still hovering over your seat?"

With an amused roll of my eyes, I mentioned, "yes. Esme, I had forgotten how much a chastisement hurts. It was a humiliating day at work as I was always cautious, and I even lost it with witnesses to see. I never imagined myself having to go through this, especially at work. It was a nightmare. Do you realize how many people bump into you on a given day, or how often you brush against objects? The experience was a revelation, and I will discuss this with the children in the future. I don't wish to put them in that situation when being sent to school."

"I told you to stay home," Esme mentioned with the absolutely most annoying phrase a wife can ever utter. I told you so. "Carlisle, did you honestly think that I wouldn't know how much you were in pain? I saw how you walked this morning, and I know how hard you were fighting to hide the pain. You still are."

I rolled my eyes up to gaze above, as I thought of a way to answer my wife's questions. "It isn't that simple," I admitted with a defeated smirk. "One receives chastisement, because they did something deserving of it. Part of the issue that you must deal with is the aftereffects of the punishment. I could not see myself taking the day off, because it would feel like I had shirked some of the consequences."

My wife laughed lightly as she admitted, "you brought that on yourself." She clicked the ignition off, and removed the keys. Turning to me, she placed a comforting hand upon my leg and mentioned, "Let's go inside, I would like to speak about the events today without the children around. There is no reason for them to witness this spanking."

My jaw clenched as she said that word, as it seemed much more appropriately used on our children and not myself. The idea of another punishment today is absurd. "Esme, we should talk about this. I do not believe that such a chastisement is necessary."

"I wish that were the case Carlisle, but even now you do not seem to realize what you did. The children will know with their gifts, but if you wish we can wait to have this discussion at the house?"

That was a bad idea, and so I resolved to head inside and at least hear what my wife wanted to say. The rickety old building looked oddly familiar. The fishing shack reminded me a lot of the one my father stored his tackle in for the horses. A one room hut with rotting timber and exposed boards. It likely leaked when it rained. I expected to find bridles, saddles, old woolen blankets, brushes, and large leather horsewhips hanging about the cabin. How I hated that place. I did not mind the horses, but that shack had an odor to it much worse than anything else did on the farm. It reeked of oils, leather, and filthy animals. Dad believed idle hands were the tools of the devil, so I spent many hours in that shack oiling the leather and doing other menial tasks many more times than ever needed to keep the items in good shape.

I stole one more glance at the rickety old building and forced myself out of the car. Another memory returned of my father's shack, of a young anxious boy awaiting his father's chastisement. I did not relish those memories, and I certainly will not with these new ones either. I chanced a glance to my wife as I stood outside the car, and gazed to her curiously in contemplation.

Just a few short hours ago, she had been completely broken, and now she wanted to punish me again? This did not make any sense. I did not even deserve it. Is this her way of showing me the displeasure she feels in the way I handle the boys? Is she going to do this and force me to come up with other ways of managing my household? I had so many thoughts running through my mind, and did not focus on what Esme was saying. I heard something about nature, and beauty, but that was it. I walked up to the shack and unlocked it, holding the door for her.

I always considered us equals, although I grew in a time where men dominated the household. Even in those days, the women held the control, because it is very hard for a man to say no to the one person in the world he most wants to please. Those men who did not care for their wives were tyrants who ran their house in fear. I never desired such a relationship.

I would lay down my life for Esme, and if she felt wronged, I needed to do what I could to make it right. My thoughts became distracted as I noticed the enticing bouncing of her caramel-coloured hair upon her shoulders. It waved in the breeze, and carried with it the sweet aroma of my Esme. Her pheromones called to the animal within. I felt a compelling urge to reach out with my hand and gently run my fingers through her locks. The strands of hair were so soft and slid like silk gracefully over my skin in an almost erotic manner. My fingers emerged fully, as they bathed in the splendor of her strands. It was so soft, and supple, and the sweet fragrance so erotic.

Esme smiled to me, as I embraced her possessively. I inhaled her intoxicating scent, and kissed the top of her head in a dominating way as if to show that she was mine alone. A deep growl emanated from my chest, and I hungered for her touch. My arms wrapped tightly around her, as she snuggled into my chest. I felt a light touch of her hand on my pelvis, and inhaled deeply.

Our conversation was no longer relevant. She filled my thoughts; her beauty empowered me, moved me, and controlled me. I am putty in her hands, and yet I need to own her. The animalistic nature caused a loud growl to ripple through the shack; my eyes grew wide with my ferocious need. My pheromones ran rampant, causing an expected reaction in my mate. Hers began to build, the scent like nectar. My mind void of thoughts focused on her alone, a lust deep within me surged forth to take what is mine!

Our animal natures dominated our actions, and took over our senses. Another of my shirts now shredded, as were my pants. Hers suffered a similar fate, as did the rest of our clothing. Our clothing torn from our bodies in great haste, and we coupled like two crazed beasts passionately yearning for one another. Howls followed the growls, and loud inhuman noises building to the expression of our love and desire.

Though we had little reason to breathe, we found ourselves panting. It may have to do with the pheromones, as the act of inhalation increases our awareness. I held my mate firmly in my arms, as she cuddled into the chest of her protector. This is how it should be, this is right. We embraced one another, while I luxuriated in her radiating beauty and enticing aromas. Our animal natures satiated.

Ever so slowly, my mind and sense of reason returned, as the events of the day began to play in my head. When passion strikes, it is best to go with it, as thoughts are nothing but rude interruptions unwanted during these occasions. I kissed the top of my wife's head lovingly, and she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "I love you Carlisle." I knew then that Esme had returned as well.

"Esme, you are my eternity. I am incomplete without you," I whispered softly to her. I glanced around the shack for a moment, and looked to her impishly. "We have a slight situation," I suggested with a wolfish grin. "I hope those parcels you retrieved from Alice's car had clothes that we can wear."

She lilted in amusement, "Knowing Alice, I'm sure they are clothes. I can imagine how you'd look in one of her dresses, or a skimpy little shirt with the midriff showing."

With a roll of my eyes I mentioned, "I'd rather enter the police station naked. Wait here Esme, I will go and see what our daughter purchased. There were a few packages." I rolled onto my knees, and leaned over to give my wife a deep suckling kiss. Her lips are so sensual, and her pheromones still quite strong as they lingered in the air. I badly wanted to rekindle our desires, but knew we had matters to deal with and a daughter to pick up shortly. I forced myself to stand, and the door squealed loudly in complaint as I swung it open and headed outside. In the trunk of the car, I found a number of items, and brought them inside.

Esme stood near the table as I arrived, and motioned to the surface mentioning, "I found a rag of sorts and wiped it down. What do you suppose Alice has picked up today," she enquired curiously. "She would shop us into poverty, if not for the two of you investing your money in accordance to her visions."

An impish grin was given my wife as I admitted, "Yes, she has been a fundamental asset when I make investments."

My beautiful wife smirked as she admitted, " yes, and if not for Daddy's credit cards then little miss shopaholic would be at a loss. We both know her allowance hardly covers the cost of these trips she makes."

"This is true dear, but our family needs for nothing. Our children get everything they want. You know we have well over thirty-four billion, and the growth on our money far exceeds even the most lavish spending. We live rather modestly considering," I explained in my daughter's defense. "Besides, she buys all my clothes and I never need worry about what is fashionable or not. She keeps me modern and up to date, and all I have to do is allow her the use of my credit card."

"This is true," Esme, admitted, "she purchases clothes for everyone, "and she has fantastic taste. I actually look forward to her shopping trips and am eager to see what items she bought." My wife did not have to tell me this, as her eyes lit up and Alice was always more than delighted to show everything. I believe Alice made a special trip to buy items for Esme, just for that special moment of bonding the two women shared.

I opened one parcel and found a pink fluffy thing that I immediately handed to my wife. "I think it's a scarf," I admitted without looking too closely at it. A loud squeal grabbed my attention.

"Carlisle! It's adorable, look at this little sweater she bought and in my size!" My wife held up that fury scarf, and showed me how wrong I was. The sweater had very soft fuzzy stuff, and the material itself was very thin. I could only imagine that garment showing off my wife's supple body. She quickly found a tiny white piece of material, and pulled it on. To my amazement, the material stretched over her entire torso, covering her modestly. "She bought me a sweater from Chanel, and look at these cute little black pants from Gucci!" She found other items needed, and quickly tried the clothing on.

"You look ravishing dear," I mentioned as I tried to rein in my animalistic passion, which threatened to emerge once more. Alice would be infuriated if we tore our new clothes without even wearing them at least once. That little sweater stretched over her assets, the material tighter around the curves making them even more alluring. The pants were black, and nowhere near as exciting as the top.

I had to focus, and immediately went back to the boxes. I sure hoped she spent a little time in the men's department, as such an item would not look nearly so well on me. A large brown plastic bag with a box caught my attention, and I pulled it over to look. Inside was a charcoal coloured H. Huntsman suit with a soft pink tie and plain white shirt. I found the other needed items in the boxes, and turned to Esme with empty bags in hand, "I would say our little minx had a premonition that we would need a new set of clothes."

"She thinks of everything," my wife admitted with a smile. "For her sake, I hope she doesn't get too many details in her visions."

"There are no secrets in our family," I admitted with a grin, as I moved to put the clothes on. Esme touched my hand lightly with a shake of her head, " Carlisle, don't get dressed yet. We still need to have our discussion."

Dashed, dead, lust no more! My thoughts went from blissfully good times, to misplaced anxiety and confusion. I stood, and folded my arms over my chest as I listened to what my wife had to say. The earlier mood all but killed.

Esme looked no happier, as she studied me curiously. "Carlisle, I think I understand the situation you faced, and the fear you had for me. Can you tell me that you honestly made sensible decisions, or were you allowing your protectionist nature to rule over your better judgement?"

"Esme," I admitted with a deeply inhaled breath of unneeded air, "my only thoughts were of you. The children are right in that our vampire abilities allow us to drive faster than ordinary people, but that does not excuse our speeds today. I could not risk missing you, even for a minute as the very idea of you being in that amount of anguish caused such grief in me that I could not explain.

She placed a finger on her lower lip, as she leaned into her hand in contemplation, "I understand that feeling honey, and I know that you realize where I'm going with this. She stared upwards to my face and traced a finger over my jaw saying, "You are the strongest man I've known Carlisle. Your rugged features and physical prowess grant you a tremendous advantage over others. You have the looks Hollywood yearns for in their movie stars. Your strength of compassion drives you, and emboldens you to defend the weak and protect the innocent. You have courage that is beyond that of normal men, and your mind too is very strong. Emotionally you are dominant, and your strength allows you to be the one me most lean on when I need comfort. Carlisle, you hold this family together. Your morals, character, and your very being all exude strength. You have no idea the grief I suffered today thinking I took that from you. It pained me to see you helpless and knowing I had the upper hand."

I had to smirk at that statement, as it certainly applied well in that situation.

Esme caught my look and grinned impishly, but continued, "I hated to spank you like that, and when you cried it frightened me. I thought I had killed who you were. Carlisle, I see now that the opposite was true. You crashed last night, the horror you felt over your actions compelled you into a state of withdraw. You left us, but this morning I helped, you find release. I realized this today at the movies, and saw you dealing with the police. Despite everything else, you remained focused to the task and saved the life of Rebecca. The humiliation did not cripple you. You did what was right, despite the handcuffs and under the suspicion of law enforcement. Carlisle, those police officers looked up to you with admiration. They saw in you what our family sees. They saw a man of strength and determination, a man willing to take action when needed, and to step down when required."

I loved to hear my wife's flattery, but how could I openly acknowledge it? What would I do, but agree and say she is right and that I am the best man who ever lived? It is an honor to receive such words, but how can one accept them without making the very idea behind them false?

Esme looked to me lovingly and continued, "Carlisle, a man like you has no known limitations, as there is never a reason to stop helping others. Your goal is to help humanity, and I believe you will until the last second of your life. You are a worthy man, father, and husband."

"Thank-you Esme," I mentioned humbly to her as a fond smile graced my features. "Esme, you are the most loving woman around. Your passion allows you to forgive without regret or grievances. God loves humankind unconditionally, and in you, I see that very quality. The childlike vampire who fought against us, you were so very willing to accept her into our family. Were it not for the Volturi, we would have her as a daughter. You forgive everyone." I paused, a moment and added, "Our children confide in you their misdeeds, because they know you will not reject them. They know you will always love them no matter what they do, and so they are more willing to approach you."

My beautiful wife laughed as she heard the last statement uttered by me, "oh, and that has nothing to do with my punishments being considered lighter than your own?"

I smirked coyly and added, " that might have something to do with it, yes."

"I may have to reconsider that Carlisle," Esme added as she stared into me. Was I hearing her right? I looked at her in awe, and wondered just what it was that I stirred within her.

My wife glanced to her watch and mentioned, "We can be at the police station in an hour and a half, and so that gives us about an hour for our discussion. Carlisle, you have taught me something through all of this." I glanced to her curiously as she continued, "I now understand why you spank our children." That was not what I expected to hear, and so I nodded my head curiously while she explained. "I used to hear their screams and cries, and that made me cry. When you were comforting them after the session, I would be trying to hide my distress from you. It felt like you were abusing them, and I never understood why they trusted you after such sessions. Last night I gave you half of what they normally received, and felt as if I had killed you. Was it something I did, or were you just out of practice on that end?"

I knew why that was, but did not expect to have this conversation so soon, "Esme, each person requires something different. My goal when spanking our children, is to make it painful but without lasting impressions. You are well aware that our children are adults, but they are our children. Parents always disciplined their children living at home, no matter how adult they became. This duty changed in the past century. It was the responsibility of the parent to do so. This past century has seen many changes to basic parenting. Unlike humans, our discipline techniques cannot change, due to the violent natures we fight and struggle against . We rein in our adult children when they get out of line. They expect and appreciate that."

"You are no different Carlisle," Esme mentioned, as if making a point. "Look at how you were last night, and compare that with today. You were horrified, fighting against yourself, and willing to run away into the oblivion of your mind. You considered suicide, or your thoughts were for self-imposed isolation."

A slow nod of my head to my wife as I admitted, "never suicide, but I did not see myself as worthy. I felt such intense guilt, and you did allow me to release it."

Esme pulled out a chair and set it into the middle of the room, "now let me help you again. A person with strength such as yours knows when to ask another for help, and that is what you did last night. I now know what you need of me now."

My mouth tasted of venom, and I swallowed hard to remove it as I stared to my wife, "why do you feel I am in need of another chastisement tonight?" The fear seemed to have dissipated. Anxiety still gripped me, as I truly did not wish such administrations tonight.

"Carlisle," she offered with a comforting smile, "you know why. What was your largest fear in the past day?"

"You ask unfair questions," I muttered as I thought over the events of the day. "When did our day start, was it at seven am after I went to work, or at midnight?"

A look of amusement played in her eye as she enquired, "Does that honestly matter?"

"Yes," I said without thought. "I have felt so many things today." The look she gave me did not need voice, as it was one of patience. Apparently, I know this answer, and she did not intend to tell me. I felt a great sense of regret for the pain I caused her. It was horrible, and the pain I caused my family, and the guilt I had over my rage. Then there was the fear I had over the ifs of Alice's visions, and yes, I did feel horrible about the speed we traveled. I had ghastly images of Alice impaled, beheaded, or any other way of death caused by the high speeds we traveled. I stared to my wife helplessly, unsure of how to answer.

"Nu, uh, you don't get off that easy," she chided me lightly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose in contemplation and confusion. I had no idea how to answer, and then suddenly it came to me, "I feared myself, the pain, the danger, and the horrors that were within my control and caused by me. My greatest fear today is that I would bring harm to my family, and those I loved." I looked down at the ground for a moment, and then into my wife's eyes as I admitted, "in the car I was afraid that my daughter would come to harm due to my acceptance of her speed, tolerance, and encouragement for traveling so quickly."

"Carlisle, you, and I are equals. You said it yourself last night, and in no way will I ever impose my will on you," Esme added as she rose from the chair and brushed the side of my face with her delicate little hand. She leaned into kiss me lightly on the lips, and with a palm against my chest gently pushed herself back. "I will never discipline you, unless it is what you want. If you chose to avoid it, then the guilt is something you will deal with in your own way. I trust that you will."

I smiled to her fondly, as my wife truly understood me. To be honest, I did not want that tonight. It was the last possible thing I could think of ever asking her to do. I was excessively sore, and about to tell her...

"I know you will make the right decision for yourself, and the family. Carlisle, what happened last night could have been easily prevented if I had your strength and offered you the help you needed," Esme admitted. "It pained me greatly, but I now understand."

I swallowed again, as the anxiety began to feel like butterflies dancing around in my stomach. My wife was right. I did feel guilty about Alice, and my ordering her to go faster still grated on my nerves. How would I feel if having to deal with a speeding ticket for any of my children in the future? Would this still be a burden, like so many things in my past? I wished to admit this to my wife, despite her already knowing. Something was stopping me, and taking a lesson from Emmett I turned to humor, " it pained me greatly too."

Esme quirked a wry smile to me, and it grew into amused chuckling. "Carlisle, I can imagine. Let's talk about that for a moment, before you make up your mind about tonight." She took in a deep breath, and admitted, "I may attempt this technique on our children in the future. Despite them being adults, they can really act like spoiled little kids. There are occasions where I am grateful for the change in attitude your administrations give, although I never understood the process and hated that you did it."

"What are you asking of me Esme," I enquired curiously. "Did you want to talk technique, or what did you have in mind?"

"Technique would be good for a starter," she added. "I have watched you all day Carlisle. Last night you sounded little different from our children when being spanked, but today that is not the case. I have seen the boys sitting with tender backsides for a day or two, but you are unable to sit at all. The slightest touch has you reacting horribly. It is obvious that I did something different."

"Esme, I am fine. When you are speaking of punishing the children, then we can sit down and discuss this more. However I feel rather awkward doing so at this moment."

I watched as she walked to the other side of the table, and pulled out a second chair. She placed it a few feet before the other, and patted her hand on the seat. "Come then Carlisle, sit, and join me for this conversation." To make her point fully known, she gracefully sat on the other and motioned for me to follow suit.

I stared in horror at the old wooden chair. The farmhouse chairs complete with peeling white paint and absolutely no cushion or comfort grooves. It was nothing but a flat piece of wood. My wife had a point to prove. I continued to lie to her about my pain, as I had the entire day. Now she intended to force it out of me. I assumed this was her way of dealing with that and letting me know that the truth was preferred. I walked over to the miserable piece of furniture, and slowly lowered myself on it. My jaws clenched tightly, my eyes bulged, but I did not shriek. I desperately tried to compose myself, as my nose flared and unneeded breaths puffed in and out quickly from my lungs.

My lovely wife now turned torturer, folded her arms across her chest and stared to me, "have I made myself clear?"

I shrugged to her in response, as I still refused to admit it.

"A shrug won't do it Carlisle, I want you to tell me with words," Esme gently scolded.

I glared to her, but did not open my mouth. My gritted teeth stopped me from verbalizing the pain.

She rose from the chair and bid me to do as well, "would you prefer to answer in this position?" The look she gave to me was of concern, but I also sensed a bit of mischief or amusement at my continued denial.

I released the pent-up breath I held, and confessed, "Esme, I asked for everything you gave me last night. In no way would I ever consider what you did to be wrong. That is exactly what I earned."

With an exasperated sigh, my wife demanded quietly, "Is that what I asked?"

"No," I answered bullishly.

"Why are you being so stubborn Carlisle," she enquired curiously. "What are you afraid of ..." she began to ask, but suddenly went quiet as if to consider something. "Do you fear that I would think you weak for admitting your pain was excessive?"

"How can you even ask that," I enquired with a bit of shock in my voice. "Esme, that isn't it at all."

She pressed her lips together in concentration, and then looked at me before she stated, "that takes us back to the original problem, doesn't it Carlisle? You are protecting me without consideration for the costs. I have just informed you of my decision to mull over such punishments for the children. Why do you still feel justified in protecting me from the pain of knowing the truth? You know how devastated I was last night, and you wish to protect me from feeling worse. You misunderstood the cause of my agony. Do you realize now the reason for my pain?"

I considered the question carefully, and in answering, I began to understand my wife's point, "I had thought you were upset at having caused me the physical pain and suffering. I thought it tore through you to see me suffer like that. The pain you felt had to do with losing me. It terrified you to think that your hand had so broken me, that I would change. I would be someone different. I would be afraid. You have known abuse Esme, and I understand now what you say. An abused person will attempt to avoid further suffering by changing who they are. Your pain was in thinking you had killed a part of me last night, or killed who I am." My arms wrapped around my wife tightly as I held her in a firm embrace, " no Esme, never that. You healed me."

Esme smiled to me fondly and then enquired, "So, will you answer my question now?"

I took in a deep breath and explained, "A spanking depends on the attitudes and emotions in the room. If either party is angered, then a spanking cannot heal. It is essential to discuss everything pertaining to it, so that both individuals understand the need for it. Nobody wants a disciplinary spanking," I admitted sheepishly.

To explain my point further, I continued, "This is beside the point. There is a problem when you both cannot agree over the justification of a spanking. Either the person does not understand the trouble with their behavior, or you misunderstood them. It does not ultimately matter, because if the one getting spanked feels it is unjust then only anger will result. There will be no healing, learning, or behavior modifying. Change of the person has little to do with the pain. It is the talk before the spanking where they come to understand where they went wrong, and why they are about to be punished. Once they have accepted that, then you are free to go ahead. You must not leave them at this point, as they are emotionally very raw. They now fully understand their guilt, and want to make amends. In other words, the spanking heals them of their guilt. Anything else is abuse."

Esme considered my words carefully, as though not ever having thought of it in such a way. "That explains a lot Carlisle, and why the children turn to you for comfort."

With a nod of my head I mentioned, "Yes, that is another essential step. Esme, each child has different needs, and depending on the situation, their guilt leaves them feeling insecure about their place. It is essential to be there for them both physically and mentally after such an ordeal. Emmett will deny it, but even he needs hugs and reassurances of my love for him. You need to make sure they feel forgiven. They need that reassurance from you. Esme, they doubt themselves a great deal and need to know there are no hard feelings. They have your complete forgiveness. They need our comfort, as they go through so many emotions at the time. It turns a person inside out, but in the comforting, provides them strength. They get up, and you will know when they are ready."

This morning, it was you giving me strength, "Esme admits curiously. Why is that?"

"This morning I forced your hand," I tried to explain. "Both parties need to agree that it is necessary. You had not agreed to that, and though I healed, it only made you feel worse. You needed the comforting."

My beautiful wife smiled warmly to me as she responded, "And now back to my original question. Carlisle, help me with my technique. What did I do wrong?"

"I have considered this Esme," I admitted. I phrased my next words carefully, "this morning I thought of your technique, and to teach you my methods. I now realize how wrong I was in thinking that to be the case. The punishment you gave to me was perfect for what I needed. You decide what is needed for each situation, but use what I am about to say as a guide and not an instruction manual."

Esme hummed softly in consideration of what I was about to say, and then focused on my words.

I glanced to my wife uneasily, and said, "The time you allow between swats enables the person to strengthen themselves against the pain. It enables them to endure it for a longer period. Use this method to reduce panic. It is good when they need to reflect on the deed that caused the punishment. It also causes the backside to stay tender for a short while.

I glanced up to Esme, and saw that she was vividly interested in my words. "Someone like Jasper requires swats delivered rapidly, so he has no time to adjust to the pain. You must temper the two styles together, as he would accept a much worse spanking than anyone else would. It could become abusive. Use less strength with rapid swats, as their point is to cause a buildup of the sting. That pain vanishes almost immediately after the spanking, but while it happens, is intense enough that they are only thinking about the pain and nothing else. It is good to have them think about what they did to earn it."

I paused for a moment and continued, "Sometimes the tender backside reminders helps the lesson sink in longer. You used a great deal of strength with the chastisement you gave me. The sting grew with the rapid swats, but the excess strength caused my gluteus maximus to bruise." With a sheepish smile I admitted, "The muscles in my backside took a beating, and that is the reason I am unable to sit or move without pain. The spanking is never over, so long as they fight it by trying to avoid it or through their begging. When they fully submit and allow themselves to sob it out, then you know it is finished." I shrugged my shoulders to my wife and admitted with a sly grin, "and that concludes today's lecture on spanking techniques."

"Thank-you, Carlisle, this has allowed me a greater understanding of your punishment methods," Esme admitted curiously as she looked to me. "I have noticed that you never spank Renesmee, nor have you ever suggested it to Bella or Edward. If this is how you feel about this form of punishment, then why do you avoid doing so on her?"

"Spanking children is abuse," I stated without any hesitation. "Children have no say in the matter, and are not consulted for their approval. They are beaten. You can reason with a child, but in the end, the lesson is about pain avoidance and healing plays a very small role. Our adult children either submit themselves for a spanking, or deal with the consequences. I have yet to run into that problem, so do not yet know what those consequences would be. The situation would decide it. They have money, and the ability to leave our home. They are bound to us by love, and not through finances or fear. They hate spankings, and will do everything to avoid them. They will beg you to stop, and they will plead not to have one. However, the decision to comply is theirs. Children do not have that ability. For this reason, I believe the spanking of children is abusive. "

A loving and affectionate smile crossed Esme's face as she stared to me with pride in her eyes. "Carlisle, I am so proud to be your mate."

My stomach clenched, as I looked into my wife's eyes and uttered my next statement, "I am ready Esme. I did risk the lives of everyone on that road today, of Alice, and myself to feed my protective nature. I convinced myself that it was for you alone I acted. I fed that protective instinct, and in so doing, I felt good and justified in any action taken. I no longer deny that." I could not believe I was asking this! What was wrong with me? I still cannot sit, and I am asking for another? I swallowed hard and brushed at my stomach to slow down the butterflies. My eyes focused on Esme in anticipation.

Her nod to me was one of approval. My lovely wife, she is so beautiful. Her hair gently brushed against her shoulder with the nod, but my anxiety refused my animalistic passions and allowed me to concentrate fully on her words. "I too am ready, Carlisle," she said while taking a seat on that disgusting wooden chair. At this moment I appreciated her earlier suggestion of not dressing, as her removing my pants this morning was entirely too awkward for my taste.

My stomach shriveled into the size of a pit, and slowly made its way down to my groin. The three feet between Esme and me now seemed like a thousand mile chasm. This man of strength found himself fearful now. I did not want to move forward. I tried desperately to do so, but my throbbing pain and fear of more refused to allow it. I urged myself to continue, and now stood at her right side.

A loving hand slid up my back, as Esme looked into my eyes and said, " Carlisle, you know why you need this."

I nodded my head into agreement and bent over her lap. I wriggled forward to support my weight with my hands, and the rest on my wife. Just like last time, my feet did not touch the ground. I squeezed my eyes tightly in anticipation of the pain.

Esme took her time, sensing my tension. Her fingertips assessed the damage from earlier this morning, which now left no visible marks. She gently rubbed my sit spots, and pushed slightly into my muscles with a massaging motion. This caused spasms of pain to shoot through my body, and a scream emitted immediately. "Carlisle, I am sorry. I meant to give comfort.?"

"I forgive, and love you, Esme" I said through my venom tears, and gritted my teeth when she asked if I was ready to begin. I braced myself for the first punishing smack. I did not have long to wait. Vampire speed allowed Esme to dole out the first many swats at an extremely rapid pace. The stinging had me screaming uncontrollably, as the pain was intense. It continued to build, and I clawed in desperation to get away. My fingers dug into the floorboards, as my desperation increased. My wife held me tight at the waist, and then she stopped.

"Carlisle, do not destroy the shack." she scolded gently, "You must control yourself." She lightly stroked my back, as a mother would a child who fell ill.

The comfort helped strengthen me, and improved my resolve to restrain myself. I grabbed at one of our tattered clothing items, and brushed it quickly against my face and nose. I refused to talk for fear of breaking, and tried to communicate with simple nods of my head.

Without notice, she began again. My scream echoed back through the forest, as I fanned my legs to kick away the pain. Esme lowered herself slightly, allowing the gripping arm on my waist to feel more like an affectionate hug. Despite that comfort, this was a very painful situation. My backside was inflamed anew, and she continued spanking rapidly.

I struggled and fought to keep control. My brain screamed at me to go limp, but that worked against my very nature. I fully understood Jasper and Emmett's reasons for holding out as they do. My jaws clenched, and then my mouth flew open as new volleys of spanks landed on the underside of my butt. The sting intensified, never relenting, I was out of my mind in pain.

Every muscle in my body tensed in anticipation. My legs hurt, my arms were in pain, and the chords in my neck felt they were ripping apart with the pressure, and then it happened. A sob escaped. The point clearly made, as every whack was a stinger. All pretenses of holding out and retaining my dignity shattered, as another sob followed. I gave in, and began sobbing in earnest. I had been completely, and thoroughly broken. The release of my pent-up anxiety and emotions escaped with each sob. My guilt began to lift, as my butt burned in a fiery lake of lava.

I do not know how long I lay there sobbing, but I was not ready to get up. My wife hummed a quiet tune of comfort, while she gently rubbed at my back. My sobbing slowly subsided. I reached for another of the clothing tatters we left on the floor, and proceeded to clean my face. I did not wish for my wife to see me in this condition. Her current view was bad enough. Satisfied with my composure, I allowed myself to rise to my full height. I reached to my wife's lovely heart-shaped face, cupped my palms against the underside of her cheek, and guided her to me. I gave a passionate kiss filled with desire. Our lips brushed lightly, and then I ever so gently suckled on her bottom lip. Our lips pressed deeply, feeling passionately for one another as if trying to merge as one starting at the mouth. Fortunately, we do not need to breathe.

I pulled away ever so slowly, and with warmth in my voice said, "Thank-you Esme. A large weight lifted from my chest, and I felt free. I dreaded the thought of coming to the shack, but it was a beautiful thing. Thank-you."

Esme looked to me, her golden eyes dancing with the gleam of lust. I saw no pain today, but acceptance and love. She smiled to me and said wolfishly, "keep kissing me like that and you will tempt me to do it more often!"

"I would rather think of this as the last one ever," I admitted with a wry grin, "however those kisses I offer freely." I kneeled before my loving wife and enquired, "I have the week off, would you like to go camping in Alaska?"It would just be the two of us for a romantic week in the wilderness."

"... but, are you not now grounded, Carlisle," Esme enquired with a wink.

I spoke the next word in a low rumbling growl, "hunting."

Esme looked so beautiful with her features relaxed. An eager smile crossed her face as she admitted, "It pleases me. You have not taken time off in a while, and I want this. Carlisle, I eagerly look forward to having you for a week to myself."

"Esme, I can hardly wait to throughly let our animalistic passions be released and enjoyed." I admitted with great eagerness. With a glance at my watch I burst our little bubble of romance as I said, "we need to pick Alice up from jail."

"Carlisle," Esme called to me softly, "do you want me to speak with Alice?"

I shook my head gently, "no, this is my duty."

Esme gave me a questioning look at that statement, but chose not to discuss it further. She cleaned up our clothing scraps while I went to dress. This spanking was much different from the last, and to my surprise, a little light rubbing really helped make it feel better. Anything more caused pain. I stood there for a moment, and gently rubbed at my backside as the pain noticeably subsided. It was not until I heard the sounds of amusement, that I realized my wife was watching me.

A sheepish smile given her as I replied, "It feels good." Upon the utterance of those words, I briskly finished dressing, picked up our trash, and headed out to the car with my wife. It was time to pick our daughter up from prison.