She looked up as he entered the room and they regarded each other for a brief moment. His hazel eyes were stern, which made her drop her gaze to her thighs. He pulled out the upholstered bench from her vanity table and sat down. He rested his forearms on his lap and let his folded hands fall down in the middle, and then he spoke.
"I think you know why you're here," he said. Pam looked up and started to answer. Jim cut her off, "Because I seem to remember that a day or so ago, you got pulled over for texting while driving." Pam's eyes widened. It was true. She had been pulled over on the way home from the grocery store, but the police officer released her with a warning. When she told Jim about it, he was nonplussed but seemed to have let it go. This fantasy of hers just got a giant shove into reality.
"I only got a warning ticket," she offered her feeble explanation.
"That doesn't matter, " he interrupted. "What matters is, you could have been hurt or you could have hurt someone else."
"But it was the only time I have ever even done it," she protested, hating the sound of her voice and that she was even arguing her case.
He leveled his gaze in a direct line to her eyes. "Really?" he asked in a flat voice.
After a couple of seconds of holding his gaze, she once again dropped her eyes and whispered her admission, "No."
He sat up straighter as he sighed, "That's what I was afraid of."
"I know . . . I'm sorry," she said. "I haven't done it since and I won't do it again."
"I believe you," Jim said, "But I want to make absolutely sure that you remember this and that you don't do it again." He paused for a few seconds. "You're getting spanked for this."
There. He had said it. He knew she could end this and back out.
At his words, Pam's stomach twisted in apprehension and she clasped her hands together for a brief moment. Even though this was uncharted territory for them, in her heart of hearts, she knew she wanted this. "I'm sorry," she offered again, looking into his eyes. She gave him the slightest of nods.
Jim exhaled a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding. Accepting her nod as compliance, he said, "I know you are. Now come here."
Pam slid off their bed and walked the few short steps over to her husband. She stood in front of him as he reached out and took both of her hands into his.
"I love you so much," Jim continued. "And I want you to be safe. I need you to be safe. Pam, I can't even handle the thought of you hurt or worse . . ." His voice trailed off because he just couldn't bring himself to say the words.
Tears welled up in Pam's eyes and threatened to spill over as she slowly nodded. She detested this feeling of Jim being frightened and disappointed in her because of her behavior.
She let herself be guided by him to the side of his lap, feeling the world slow as if she were in a dream. "Jim . . .," she whispered a plea, "I'm really sorry."
"I know, baby," he said, "But this has to be done. Now bend over."
He took her by the hand and she allowed herself to be ushered downward and draped over his lap. Her hands scrambled a bit as she searched for balance and she felt breathless from the sudden, firm pressure of her abdomen against his legs. She felt Jim place a hand on the small of her back to steady her and control her movements. After a second, she felt the gentle touch of his hand resting on her panty-covered bottom. His hand was so large, it felt like it covered her almost entirely. Pam released a whimper at this new sensation and started squirming on his lap. His hand pressed firm on her back. "Be still." he ordered. Pam became still, an instant response to his tone of voice. Before she felt ready, a painful smack was delivered to her bottom. A shock snapped through Pam's entire body and she kicked her legs straight out. "Be still," Jim repeated and swatted again. Her rear already felt like it was on fire and she struggled to still herself. Jim continued to spank her and began to speak. "I need to know that you will be safe from now on. I never thought you would be so foolish to text and drive at the same time, Pam."
The weight of his voice and the gravity of the situation squeezed her heart. Tears of shame began to roll down her cheeks. She hadn't really expected to cry but she knew she deserved this spanking and released a long, shuddering sigh as she wiped at her cheeks. When Jim heard this, he knew that he was driving the point home. He could see that her bottom was turning pink and could feel the warmth radiate off her skin. His hand was beginning to sting and he paused. Confused, Pam looked tearily over her shoulder. She felt him pat her backside gently and without a word, helped her to her feet. In an instant, her hands flew behind her as she tried to rub out the sting.
Jim said, "It's not over yet," and Pam's eyes widened as she sniffled and bit back a sob. Her eyes grew wider still when she saw him turn to pick up her wooden hairbrush from her vanity. She panicked as she realized what was about to happen. She bounced up and down with her knees and protested, "No, no, no! Please not the hairbrush!" feeling much like a very childish version of herself. A patient, yet unyielding expression entered Jim's face. "Pam. Yes. I need to know that you have learned your lesson. After I spank you with your hairbrush, it will all be over. Now, do you want to pull down your panties on your own or do you want me to do it?" Pam knew that was an impossible choice since she didn't want either to happen. She could just manage to shake her head.
"That's not really an answer, " he said, arching his eyebrows. He was deliberate and tender as he reached out to hold her waist, and he captured his gaze. Even through her new set of tears, he saw quiet acceptance. Jim hooked his thumbs into the elastic waistband and tugged her panties downward until they hit the floor. Pam placed a hand on each of his shoulders for balance as she stepped out. Once again, her hands went behind her as she covered her bottom underneath her green t-shirt. Jim guided her to the side of his lap, feeling the resistance of Pam's feet dragging the carpet. She balked a little bit more this time as she was maneuvered over his knees.
"Please . . .," she said, her voice catching in her throat.
"Eight swats," was Jim's reply, and Pam let out a sob.
"Honey, please, I won't do it again. I won't, I won't, I won't . . ."
She felt the coolness of the lacquered wood rest on her bare skin and instinctively tensed.
"Pam . . . relax your bottom, please," Jim said in a low voice, stroking her back. He waited with his trademark patience as she gathered every ounce of self-control and courage she possessed and gradually relaxed.
"Good girl," he said. "Eight." he repeated and lifted his arm halfway. He flicked his wrist to lay a stinging swat onto her bottom. He had zero intention of using even half his strength. Right away, a dark pink oval began to form on her soft skin. Pam squeaked at the first blow and fought the urge to reach backward in protection. Three more swats and the tears flowed freely and she could not help it. In desperation, she reached behind her back in an attempt to cover herself, as the balls of her feet drummed the carpet.
"Move your hands," Jim ordered. A few seconds passed. He raised his voice a bit to repeat himself, then watched as she placed her hands in front again with great reluctance. She found his forearm and held on to it. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. Even though Jim's expression and tone of voice was stoic, he was ready to end this so he could gather his sweet wife up into his lap and hold her in his arms. Four more flicks of his wrist, four more little squeaks, and he let the hairbrush fall to the carpet.
Pam was still bawling as he awkwardly pulled her to a sitting position on his knee. She laid her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. He encircled his arms around her waist and laid his cheek on the top of her head. He subconsciously began rocking his body from side to side and he whispered, "I love you, baby." It was muffled but he heard an "I love you, too." Gently, he lifted her chin so he could see her face. Her mascara had run and she had red blotches that were beginning to fade to pink. A couple tear stains remained on her flushed cheeks.
Jim placed a delicate kiss on her lips and she released a shaky, cleansing sigh and laid her head back down on his shoulder. After a few seconds, he heard her yawn and he knew she was exhausted. Jim stroked Pam's tousled hair and felt her body relax into his.
"Hey," he whispered, "Let's get you to bed. I'll take care of dinner and wake you up when it's time."
"Mmmmpf . . . okay," she replied, shakily standing on the carpet. Jim held her elbow to help her become steady and with his other hand pulled back the comforter and top sheet. She slid in between the cool, cotton sheets and curled up on her side, facing him. She tucked her hands underneath her pillow as he covered her. Overcome with his love for her, along with what had just transpired, he dropped to his knees so they were face to face.
"Pam . . . I love you so much. I . . .," and words faded away from him as he felt tears brimming. Love overflowed her eyes and she whispered, "I love you," and then, "thank you," as she drifted off to sleep.