Forever Wife (16 page)

Liz smiled sadly, but shook her head.  “No, hon.  But thanks for the offer.  I’ve got a lot to discuss with him, and it could take the rest of the night. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Liz felt a little shaky as she opened the door.  Why was life with this man never easy?  She felt like she’d been on an emotional rollercoaster ever since he walked back into her life.  She flushed, wondering if she wasn’t at least partly to blame.  If there were a reasonable explanation for all of this, she would owe him a major apology.  Drawing in a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and walked inside.

“Good evening, Beth,” Vidar said calmly.  He rose from his place at the table, which had been set with the good dishes, cloth napkins and tall candles, just like she’d imagined it.  “I’ve missed you.”

Then he opened his arms and she rushed into them.  She clung to him, fresh tears spilling down her face.  Suddenly it didn’t matter what he told her about the casino.  She loved him.  Even if he was a complete idiot at times!  And overbearing, and over protective, and over his knee… damn, yes.  Even when she was over his knee, she loved him.  She snuggled in closer, relishing the feel of his arms around her. 

He didn’t hug her long, though.  He kissed the top of her head as he stepped back.  Then he pulled out a chair at the table for her and waited.  When she had taken her seat, he kissed her again.  “I love you, you know.  No matter how annoying you are.”

Liz couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I love you too, no matter how annoying, autocratic, pushy, demanding . . .”

“That’s enough,” he said sternly.  Then he smiled.

Dinner was delicious.  Chicken Cordon Bleu, wild rice, salad, and white wine.  She tried a couple of times to bring up the casino, but Vidar deflected the conversation.  “After dinner,” he said.  She just hoped the conversation wasn’t too awkward, or she might regret having eaten everything.

When the dinner was over, Vidar set the dishes in the sink, while Liz put away the leftovers. Although they had managed to engage in small talk during the meal, now the silence was uncomfortable.  Liz just knew that she was going to end up over his knee.  Whether it was for opposing him on the casino deal, or refusing to give him a chance to discuss it with her earlier that afternoon, or perhaps even because he disapproved of her girlfriend Tracy… the “why” didn’t matter.  All she knew was that the end result was going to be the same. 

So she wasn’t surprised when Vidar rolled up his sleeves, went into his office, pulled a chair away from his desk and sat expectantly.  She held her hands behind her back, nibbling on her lower lip as she followed him.  She leaned against the
doorframe, staring at a spot on the floor.

“Just tell me, Vidar.  When you walked back into my life, was it just to make me stop opposing your casino?”

“Do you think that little of me?” he asked sadly.

She risked a glance at his face and saw that her words had hurt him, and yet, he didn’t actually deny it, either.  “I don’t really know you,” she said.  “You were always the stern Uncle, my godfather, the one who thought I should live up to a stricter set of rules.  Now suddenly you want me to trust you, but yet you keep so many secrets from me.  Why didn’t you tell me yourself that you were behind the casino?”

“It was never meant to be a secret.”

“Well, you hid your identity pretty well. Tracy and I have been trying to figure out who was behind Norse Land Enterprises.”

“It is not unusual to do business under a different name.  But you’re right – we have a lot to talk about. And we can’t talk if you keep running away every time you hear something you dislike.”

Liz nodded.  “Guilty.  It just was so unexpected.  And it hurt.  You know how much I love this place, Vidar.  How could you even think about bulldozing it under?”  She looked at him again, this time with tears in her eyes.

“I thought maybe it was the right thing to do, Baby.  I thought maybe it was too painful a reminder for you.  I can see now that I was wrong.”

She gulped, her eyes widening.  “You mean, you’ll give up the casino?”

He shook his head.  “No. But it could be done without destroying Camp Birches.”

Liz walked forward then and took her position beside him as she lowered her jeans and panties.  Then she lay down across his lap.

Vidar put an arm around her, holding her securely, while the other hand rested on her naked bottom.  “Do you know why you are going to be spanked, Elizabeth?”

She shrugged.  “Does it matter?”

Her answer was a series of sharp, stinking swats. “Okay, I get it,” she snapped.  “I’m being spanked because it is what you wish.  No matter what I’ve done, or haven’t done, my bottom is yours to punish as you see fit.”

It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, but it was a good answer, nonetheless.  “Very well,” he conceded.  “But
in this particular instance, it is not because you ran away.  It is not because you are spearheading the opposition to the casino.  It is only because when I told you to get in the car – a direct order – you disobeyed.  Disobedience will always be dealt with.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t believe in warm-up spankings, Elizabeth.  They’re a waste of my time and yours.  Spankings are supposed to hurt; therein lay the deterrent factor, hopefully, for you.  Now, you are a big girl.  A beautiful woman, actually.  The one with whom I wish to share the rest of my life.  But for that to happen, we must learn to communicate.  Having you run away from me had me pretty upset, and although discipline is something that’s new to you, I’m not inclined to go any easier on you because of that.  Besides, I didn’t go easy on you the first time I spanked you, did I?  And that worked out for the best.  You stayed in school where you belonged.  I consider that a point for my side, and I believe that you will benefit the most from me being as strict with you as possible, especially since your parents were very reluctant to do so.  There’s a lot of making-up to be done in this area, as far as I can see, and I can assure you that we’re going to get you caught up.”

With that, he began.  His large hand smacked her bottom soundly, covering nearly all of it with each swat.  Sometimes his hand landed a bit to the left, or a bit higher or lower, but the area in the middle got hit every time. 
She wanted to lie still and take it, knowing she had earned it, but it was impossible not to kick.  Before long, it was impossible not to wiggle, or scream, or cry, or do anything in her power – which wasn’t enough – to get away from him.  It hurt! And then, when he stopped and she thought it was over, she was sadly mistaken, for he picked up a paddle she hadn’t even seen before, and began again in earnest.

She had
never dreamed of a paddle, and now she knew she never would.  She would rather endure a thousand hand spankings than ever be paddled again.  From the first swift stroke and its frightening
crack
to the last, she knew that this was an implement about which she would never, ever fantasize.

As if to prove her wrong, however, as if he was reading her very thoughts, Vidar opened her legs and reached almost rudely up between them. She was left there, wide open, while his fingers claimed every bit of her and discovered a triumphant secret.

“You’re at least as wet as when I hand spank you, Elizabeth.  Maybe more so, even at midway through.”

Midway? This was only midway? 
When he finally stopped, she felt so relieved to know that it was over, but now he was saying that she was just halfway through?  Liz didn’t know if she could stand any more, not that she was going to be given a choice.

When he sussed out what he wanted to know, thoroughly embarrassing her with her involuntary reaction, he picked up the paddle and began that atrocious, inexorable rhythm again.  He wasn’t hurried, didn’t seem to be angry in the least, but instead was entirely relentless, like a Swiss watch set to spank time. 
Crack
.  Pause. 
Crack
. Pause.

He concentrated on the area he knew would continue its reminder long after the spanking was done:  the sweet spot where butt met thigh – not that he neglected any of the rest of her beautiful backside either.

“What are you going to do the next time you have a problem – of any sort – Elizabeth?” he asked while still bringing that unforgiving wooden implement down in perfect time.

“Tell you!” she cried, with an inevitable sob.

“That’s right.  Even if you think it’s going to get you into trouble, what are you going to do?”

“Tell you!”  She was panting and coughing and hoarse from screaming, but he never relented.

“Good girl.  I think another twenty swats ought to help you remember.”

Elizabeth thought her bottom and the backs of her thighs were in pain before, but that was nothing in comparison to that last series of smacks.  She had no idea why they hurt so much; they just did.  By the time he finished, she had absolutely no voice – and no energy – left.

He helped her to her feet, held her for a moment until she was stable, then guided her into the corner.  He told her to stay there; she had absolutely no problems obeying that command.  She didn’t think she could possibly move.  When he returned, he lovingly washed her face, helped her blow her nose like a two-year-old, and got her into a nightgown he had fetched from her room.  He didn’t think she’d want anything – even something as soft as flannel pajama pants – against her rear end, and he was damned right. Then he gathered her into his arms and carried her into the living room where he sat down and arranged her carefully over his lap again.

Liz panicked, worried that meant he was going to spank her again!  But h
e soothed her by rubbing her back as he held her in place, reassuring her that he’d just thought this would probably be the most comfortable position for her to be in for a while.  He turned on the television to a music channel, then began to rub her back, keeping well away from her inflamed backside.

“I’m sorry you had to have your bottom paddled. 
But you had it coming for a lot of reasons.  I still can’t believe you didn’t trust me enough to come to me when you were damned near destitute, Beth, and even after I got here you didn’t tell me about it. I had to discover it accidentally.  I don’t ever want you worrying about where your next meal is coming from, because as long as I’m alive – and beyond - I’ll take care of you.”

Her mind was still chaotic and preoccupied with the stinging throbbing of her rear, but had he just said “and beyond” in regards to his own death?  What could he possibly have meant by that?  And was she sure she really wanted to know?

Vidar continued to stroke her back, helping her to calm down, putting a box of Kleenex where she could easily reach it so she could blow her nose when needed; she was still sobbing a bit.  But her entire body tensed when his fingers drifted slowly but determinedly down over her ravaged bottom to nudge her thighs apart and begin to explore her, much as he had when he had declared half time, half way through her paddling.

Although her body had stiffened immediately at his intimate invasion, he didn’t seem to notice.  “Ah, you’re so slippery!  That’s wonderful!”

Elizabeth didn’t know if she would agree that it was quite that wonderful, considering the condition of her rump, but then his fingers moved just a bit further north and she forgot everything she had been trying to think about.  Even the stinging of her rear end ebbed some, in favor of the much more pleasurable sensations he was creating between her legs.

“And you’re clit is so swollen, baby, wow!” 

She could feel him arching beneath her, easily detecting the bold, hard strength of his erection under her tummy.

“I’m going to have to paddle you more often.”

“No!” she croaked, causing him to chuckle at her vehemence.

“Well, that’s not really something you have any input about, anyway, now do you?”

Liz was too busy panting and moaning – but for an entirely different reason from why she had been doing just that about ten minutes ago – to pay much attention to him, and that wasn’t a good idea.

“Elizabeth.”

Just her name.  No more than that.  No yelling, no cursing, no screaming.  But then, he didn’t need to say or do any more than that. 

And it was more than enough – despite his big, busy fingers and how they were manipulating that eager little nub of hers – to get her attention.  “No, Vidar, it’s not,” she answered dutifully.

“Very good.  But remember,” he warned, as he heard her moans becoming exponentially more fevered, “you’re not allowed to come without permission.”

Oh dear Gawd.  He
would
restrict her like that, and make her have to beg him to allow her to have an orgasm.  She wasn’t at all sure she could even control it; that wasn’t something she’d ever had to do before.

But she was damned sure going to try.  There was no way she would be able to tolerate another round with that paddle, no matter what her juices said to the contrary.

He was in no hurry to get her to that point anyway, because those inquisitive digits of his were moving very slowly over that turgid peak, teasing her mercilessly, not by way of over-stimulation, but rather its opposite.  It seemed to her that the less stimulation he gave her, the more she craved from him, the bigger she swelled trying to instigate the contact she was lacking.