Punish a Peeper: A Domestic Discipline Story by Monica Martin

Author:Monica Martin
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Four Peas Publishing
Published: 2016-06-11T04:00:00+00:00

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Chelsea got drunk. That was just as well. That way, she didn’t notice his gimpy gait and sullen attitude. At home, she dropped her dress and passed out on the bed leaving Adam to change clothes unobserved. He stripped out of the tux and stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror, taking stock of his ass. Red. Not just red, bright red, with a mass of purple lines crisscrossing his butt. Hot and sore to the touch. He fell into bed hoping it’d look and feel better in the morning.

It didn’t. His ass looked like hamburger, with red, purple and white splotches covering every inch. The heat of the shower brought heat to the surface again. That soon faded, but the deep ache inside remained. He leaned on the sink front and looked at himself in the mirror.

Last night seemed like a dream. Today, after the fact, he didn’t know how he’d let it happen. But he had been acting like a jerk, and he’d been called on it. He could only hope Kristin would keep her side of the bargain now and he could start fresh. He laughed a little and hung his head. Kristin. Just yesterday her name had sent waves of desire through him. Today, the shivers were for a different reason.

“What the hell happened to you!”

Adam looked up and saw Chelsea in the mirror. Her make-up smeared raccoon eyes stared at him in horror. All kinds of excuses raced through his mind, but he didn’t have the energy to craft anything believable. He deflected without lying.

“Ask Kristin.”

She shook her head as if she’d heard wrong. “Kristin? What does she have to do with – that?”

“Just ask her.”

Chelsea stabbed her fists to her hips. “I will.”

“You should.”

“Okay.” Chelsea grabbed her phone and stomped into the hallway. “Hey, morning, sorry to bother you so early…”

Adam flopped on the bed. Maybe he should take some aspirin. Maybe he should sit on some ice. Now that Chelsea knew, it would be easier to tend to the aftermath of… He gulped. His punishment. How weird to think that. He closed his eyes and tried not to.

He must have dozed. Voices drifted to his dreams. Chelsea. Kristin. His eyes flew open, and he rolled to his side. Both women stood over him.

“What the…” He broke off, remembering Kristin’s words about profanity.

“Kristin told me everything,” Chelsea said. She’d scrubbed away the leftover party face and combed the wild bed-head hair. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

Adam grabbed the sheet and pulled it to his waist. “Yeah. And?”

“Yeah. And…” Chelsea hesitated, and from the look on her face, he gathered that the situation was as weird to her as to him. “She’s got the right idea.”

“About what?” Adam sat up, moving slow in both body and brain.

“About, well, about giving you what you deserve.”

“Oh, and just what is it that I deserve?” He challenged with sarcastic tone.

Chelsea’s eyes got big and she glanced at Kristin. Yeah, he knew he could scare her off.

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