Informed Consent (8 page)

“I
brought you dinner, Denise.”
 
He
bumped the light switch with one hand, the other balancing the heavy tray.

He set
the tray down next to the window seat, pissed because there was no sign of her
anywhere, and last night he
had
said:
“move your things into
our room
tomorrow”.
 
One more strike against
Little Ms. Marrow.

If he was
tired of her fucking up, imagine how she must feel. He picked the tray back up
and headed for her old bedroom.
 
Of
course she wouldn’t go to ‘their’ room when she needed solace.

 
It took him a moment to find her in the
gloom of her room. She sat on the floor, forearms balanced on her knees. It
gave him the impression her head had been down until he’d flicked the light
on.
 
When she looked he thought she
looked wan, tired.

He laid
the tray on the table by the fireplace, a massive piece of work that didn’t
stand a chance of actually working.
 
Instead of logs, a huge sculpture filled the hearth.
 
Probably cost a fortune. That was
typical of her parents; spend a small fortune on a white elephant while the
roof blew off in small pieces.

Hands on
his hips, Andrew looked at his wife.
 
She’d put her head back down.
 
He felt sympathetic.
 
He
didn’t have any real intention of punishing her further for the dog incident, but
she didn’t know that, and here she was heaping more pain on herself.
 
For the sake of a brother. He gave her
bonus points for that.
 

But he
couldn’t let it make a difference right?
 
Consistency was very important.
 

Consistency
was damn exhausting too.
 
It would
be easier to let it all go and sit down in front of the big screen and kill
zombies with the boys.

Or make
love to his beautiful wife.

“Come on,
Denise.
 
Eat.”

“I’m not
hungry, Andrew.
 
How can I be?
 
I’m waiting for you to beat me.”

“Are
you?” He kept his voice level.

“Of
course.”
 
She moved from the
floor.
 
By the time she stood up
her face was no longer worn and tired; she looked mutinous. “I said ‘Jesus
Christ’ and ’fuck’ to the Head of the Household.
 
I shudder to imagine what punishment I’m in for.”

 
Her voice dripped sarcasm.

“I don’t
like the sarcasm, Denise.
 
Aside
from that, you did exactly what I would have told you to do: you left and took
some time to chill.
 
I’d prefer
you’d gone to our room, but I get it.”

The hussy
looked him directly in the eye, raised one elegant brow and turned away,
strolling leisurely towards the bathroom. She might as well have had “Did I
now?” tattooed on her ass.

When he
wasn’t worried he was scarring her for life, he was actually enjoying
himself.
 
He poked his tongue in
his cheek to keep from grinning.

It was
blindingly clear she was trying to provoke him.
 
Had to be something to do with William. Again, he admired
her instinct to protect her brothers.

Andrew
sat on the end of the huge bed, leaning back.

It took
her a long time. A toilet flushed.
 
The sink ran.
 
Some
rustling. Drawers slid open, and then closed. If she started the bath, for
Christ sake, would he put a stop to it?
 
He grinned.
 
Let her.

The door
opened and Denise walked back out looking a little self-conscious, but
determined to pull off the effect of ignoring him.
 
She kicked off her shoes and reached for the robe hanging on
a clothes tree near the bed.
 
“I’m
going to take a bath.
 
Stress
relief.”

Halfway
back into the bathroom she paused, hand on the door ready to pull it to behind
her.
 
She looked back at him.

“I’ll
definitely keep thinking about what I did wrong.”

She
didn’t wait for a reaction from Andrew.

He
grinned.

Water ran
for a long time.
 
Andrew lay back
on the bed and listened for sounds from downstairs.
 
It sounded like the kids had finished in the kitchen and
were now camped in the far den.
 
He
could hear faint strains of music and voices because of course they would have
the TV going at the same time as some electronic device blasted music.

Andrew
left her room for their shared one. In the drawer next to the bed he selected
an item. Pocketing it, he headed back down the hall to her room, her bathroom,
and walked in --he wasn’t knocking. He’d given enough on this issue for
tonight.
 
He caught her as she sank
down into the deep tub.
 
She
blushed fiercely and buried herself in bubbles.
 
Andrew leaned back against the porcelain of an old fashioned
sink.
 
From the looks of it, he
decided, it didn’t simply appear old fashioned.
 
It was probably an original fixture brought over on the
Santa Maria and transported up from Haiti by boat and mule train.

“Please
knock in the future, Andrew.” His darling picture of submissiveness requested
politely.

He raised
a brow.

Her face
took on an even more innocent expression.
 
“It startled me.
 
I almost
fell.”

Andrew
ignored her comment.
 
“Stand up,
Denise.” He moved forward and put out a hand to help her.

Denise
blushed and made no move to take his hand.

“I’m
naked.”

“I know
that.
 
Get up please.”

“I’m not
comfortable being naked in front of you yet.”

Her voice
had grown chilly, hard.

“Denise.”
She looked at him very coldly and sighed with clear frustration. She grasped
the sides of the tub and stood up, glaring at him.

“Did you
sigh at me?
 
Like in exasperation?”

“Yes. I
did.
 
I’m cold, and very
uncomfortable. And I don’t like being expected to put myself in situations
where I’m uncomfortable for your amusement.”

She
looked magnificent.
 
As far as he
was concerned her body was perfect.
 
Sleek muscles.
 
Curves where
curves belonged.
 
A tiny, barely
round belly.
 
Soap bubbles clung to
her pubic hair.
 
Her nipples were
erect.
 
He would ignore them, like
the gentleman he was.
 
He slipped
his hand into his pocket.

“I’ve got
something I think will help you think things over.
 
Put you in the proper mood.”

Her jaw
tightened.

He made a
gesture with the fingers of one hand.
 
“Turn around and bend over.”

She
glared at him some more, clearly with no intention of obeying.

Andrew
put a hand on her far hip and another on her shoulder and helped her move,
around and down.
 
She was smart
enough not to fight him but he smacked her ass anyway, already red from the
heat of the bath.
 
“Hold onto the
edge of the tub, darlin’.”

He moved
his hand from her shoulder, ready to slap it back if she tried to
straighten.
 
She didn’t.

“Spread
your legs.”

It took her
a moment but she began to move her legs apart. He slapped her on her inner
thighs several times.“Wider.

“Now stay
put.”

He opened
the cabinet and picked up a bottle of lubricant.
 
He held a decent sized butt plug in his hand, with a round
lip that prevented the plug from further entry once it was seated.
 
He rolled the plug between his hands,
warming it, and then flicked the top off the lubricant and dribbled some over
it.

“This
will help you keep your mind on submission to your Head of Household, Denise.”
 
He positioned the plug at the tight
rosebud entry to her ass, ready for her startle.
 
His hand clamped down firmly on the small of her back,
holding her in place.

He knew
from experience that a firm thrust with a well lubed device would be easiest.
He inserted the plug completely in one smooth move.

A small
burst of air and an “oh,” followed by some wriggling.

“You can
sit.”

She
didn’t move.

“Go on,
enjoy your bath.
 
But keep that
plug in.”

He turned
and ran water in the sink, reaching for the bottle of soap that sat on its
edge.

“You
can’t be ser-“

“I am.”
He cut her off. “If you’re smart you’ll let that plug remind you of a few
things. When I come back I expect a full list of everything you did wrong
today.”
 

He
reached for a towel and began to dry his hands, steadfastly ignoring the sight
of her standing there, discomfort coloring her features. He’d guess Denise had
never had anything up her ass before.
 
He’d heard it went a long way to restoring submission in a recalcitrant
woman. More than anything, he suspected she’d find it highly erotic.
 
Neil had said “focus on the sex”. So he
was.

“Go, on,
Denise.
 
Clench the muscles in your
ass and sit.”

He thrust
out his hand.
 
He ignored the tears
beginning to well in those pretty eyes of hers. “Sit!” he barked.
 
“Hold it in and sit.”

She moved
a hand back to guide her as she sat, moving awkwardly, sinking to her knees in
the water.

 
He hadn’t said kneel, he’d said sit. On
the other hand, he didn’t need to be a complete prick.

“When
you’re done with your bath, Babe, get in your pajamas and into bed.
Our
bed.
 
You’re welcome to watch TV, or read, but stay in our room.

“If your
list of offenses isn’t complete you’re going to have a go round with that bath
brush that will make you scream.”

He winked
at her.

 
“If it is complete I’ll still make you
scream but you’ll like it a lot more.”

No ‘Please’.

No look to check her obedience.

He made
himself walk out the door.

Chapter Eight

And once again I’m sniveling.

Denise
moved her legs from underneath her, the fingers of one hand anxiously touching
the rude edge of the anal plug.

Unbelievable.

The fucking idiot prick son of a bitch
cocksucker.

Still. He
doesn’t know William missed school.
 
He doesn’t know William is
god-only-knows-where.

No one
had ever touched her
up there
before.
In her imagination the act had sounded darkly attractive, and also damn
uncomfortable. She would have ripped the face off any fool who actually
attempted to do such a thing.

This particular fool hadn’t bothered to ask.

Now here
she was.
 
Stuffed.
 
While in the tub.
 
Totally undignified.

She
wriggled experimentally.

’Keep
your mind on submission’? Was that the words he’d chosen?
 
Did she feel submissive?

She
reached for the bath lotion and got busy because she certainly no longer felt
like lounging in the tub.
 

She felt
like jumping out of her skin.

And
maybe
kinda submissive.

Definitely
horny.

Boy did
that piss her off.

***

William
whistled while he rummaged thru the frig.
 
There wasn’t a god dammed thing in it.
 
He slammed the door. A plate covered with plastic wrap sat
on the stove.
 
He moved towards it,
a grin taking shape on his face.
 
“Sweet!”

Denise
must be entering some new homemaker stage now she was married because this -- a
hot meal left waiting -- had never happened before, ever.
 
His parents wouldn’t even notice you
weren’t in the house, let alone think about providing you with food.
 
It looked pretty good too. He peeled
off the wrap while headed for the microwave. Using fingers, William snagged
some noodles and leveraged them into his mouth.