Vanilla Twist

16Mar11

The waves battered against the rocks below the small beachside café with a sound like muffled cymbals. Every once in a while, specs of sea water would splash over the low wall and reach where they were sitting. Not that Alice minded. This was fast becoming one of her favourite places.

Overhead the seagulls dived at unseen opportunities only to wheel away at the last moment and circle away with a plaintiff cry.

“Shall we have some ice cream?” Michael asked.

She looked at him as if for the first time and decided that she would always like white Arran jumpers, because today he was wearing one. She hugged into the soft hardness of him beneath the pale padding, so close that she could smell the far off Scottish isle within the wool.

“Earth to Alice, does Alice want an ice-cream?”

She nodded and smiled.

“Vanilla please,” she added when he didn’t move.

“Cornish cream or something even more exotic?”

“Oh just plain vanilla,” she said, asking for her usual.

Alice had never been one for change. Once she found something she liked she tended to stick to it, like Michael.

He returned before she knew it, handing her the white topped cone.

“What have you got?” She asked, looking at the yellow and dark brown swirl that crowned his.

“Vanilla Twist,” he answered. “It’s Cornish cream with chocolate.”

For a moment she wanted to try, but as ever something held her back.

“When have you got to go back to London?” He asked between licks.

She looked away so he wouldn’t see her face.

“Oh ages yet, there’s no hurry,” she lied.
In fact her agent had called and told her that if she couldn’t produce three chapters by the end of the week then she should meet the publisher to prove that she was still in the game.

That had been three days before. She had written nothing and had even less intention of going to London to meet stuffy old publishers.

“Really,” he persisted. “Brian Hedley called last night, he sounded put out.”

“Brian is always ‘put out,’” Alice said letting her boredom show and took another lick of her vanilla.

“That’s one way of saying it,” I suppose. “He ‘puts’ up with you and goes ‘out’ of his way to push your books.”

“Oh that’s clever. I like that, word play. You should write a book. No really, you’re good.” She said sarcastically.

“Play nice,” he chided.

“I am not a child,” she said sullenly. “I am 34 and I have sold over a million books. I don’t need…”

“You haven’t written anything new in nearly two years. Ok, we have paid for the house and I have my photography, but if you want to live here you are going to have to write or get a job.”

“I have a job, I just got an advance of another £25,000 and…”

“And you haven’t written a word to justify it,” Michael concluded.

“I don’t want a fight,” she sighed. “I was having such a lovely day.”

“Then why did you start one?”

“I didn’t, I…”

“You have to be in London, the day after tomorrow. You lied.”

“I am not going. So I didn’t lie.”

“You damn well are,” Michael growled.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, I am not your wife. And even if I were…”

“If you were my wife I would put you over my knee and give you the spanking you have been asking for. Then there would be no question of you going to London, you would have written the bloody book by now, even if you had to write it standing up.”

Alice shoved what was left of her ice-cream into Michael’s face and stormed off. She got as far as the road before turning back and screaming: “you caveman, I am not your mother.”

It was all Michael could do not to spank her there and then, but she was right, she was not his mother.

When he had told Alice about his parents’ relationship, he had thought it funny. Just a lifestyle that belonged to another time, but four years with Alice and he had wondered if his father wasn’t on to something.

Throughout his parents married life his father had taken his mother to their room whenever he considered it necessary and given her a spanking. The sound of it had been heard throughout the house and sometimes by the neighbours.

When Michael had got older he had realised that most marriages weren’t like that. However, when he had asked mother about it she had laughed.

“Don’t fuss yourself, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she had told him.

That wasn’t the strangest thing she had ever said though. Shortly before she had died, a couple of months after he had first been with Alice, she had taken him to one side and said:

“That girl is a diamond in the rough. Just like I was when I met your father. When the time comes don’t be afraid to do what is needful or you will lose her.”

He hadn’t really known what she meant at the time, but in recent months had begun to think more and more about it.

*

“Sorry,” she said as he walked in the door.

He shrugged.

“I am who I am, you know that, but you do need to go to London. Don’t you?”

“I suppose,” she sighed.

He crossed the room and sat down next to her, she didn’t resist him long, leaning into him, her hand found his.

“They are going to want the money back,” she said quietly.

“No,” he laughed reassuringly, “they just want to see some effort or at least hear your ideas.”

“But you are right. I haven’t done anything, I don’t have any more ideas,” she whispered.

“You’ll think of something. You always do,” he replied, squeezing her hand.

“I’m no good, I never was, not really,” she sobbed.

“Don’t be so stupid,” he growled, “your last two books were prizewinning, are you saying you didn’t write them.”

“They wrote themselves, don’t you see, they just happened, I just put it all down. None of it was me. I am a fraud,” she wailed.

“Oh for god’s sake, don’t be stupid,” he groaned.

“I’ll never be able to write like that again, I just know it,” she said close to tears.

She buried her head in his chest and wished he could make Brian, the publishers and even London go away.

He turned round and seized her by the shoulders.

“Stop it now, stop it this instant, what has come over you?” He bellowed. “Don’t you dare talk like that.”

She looked up at him with cow eyes and then looked away.

“You are going to London, do you hear me? You are going to sit down and flesh out some notes and then you are getting on that train and going to London to fight your corner.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t,” she spat. “I told you, I am not your wife and you can’t tell me what to do.”

He took a deep breath and stepped away.

“Is that what’s worrying you?” He asked quietly. “Do you want to get married?”

“Marry you?” There was an edge to her voice. “What makes you think I would marry you? We are alright how we are. Or we were. Now I am not so sure.”

“This morning we were alright and now we are not? Is that it?”

“Yes,” she said sullenly with a pout.

“I am done with this. I am done with you,” he said quietly.

She was suddenly gripped with panic and he saw the strangest look cross her face.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” he said harshly. “Say it now.”

She looked at her shoes.

“If you don’t tell me you don’t love me before I count to three, I am going to do something I should have done a long, long time ago.”

She looked up and chewed her lip. What did he mean? She waited to for him to start counting. Confused, did she have to say she loved him or not say it?

“Very well,” he sighed.

“You didn’t count,” she said with a pout.

“Shut up.”

He pulled off the thick woollen jumper she so loved to reveal his broad chest covered by his thin T-shirt.

“Come here,” he whispered.

“What are you going to do?”

“Come here.”

“Look I’m sorry Ok. You know I get cranky sometimes, but you were making me go to London and…”

“Come here.”

“Oh no, listen if you think…” she said in agitation as she saw the look in his eyes and began to realise what he was going to do.

He grabbed her easily and pulled her across his lap.

“I am not,” he snapped giving her a spank across the seat of her jeans, “putting up with,” and another spank, “your moods,” and again, “anymore.”

Throughout her jaw just hung open at the sudden burning assault on her bottom, although the indignity was worse than the sting.

“Let me go,” she gasped.

He reached under her waist and unhooked her belt and shucked down her jeans together with her knickers.

“What are you…?”

Her bottom was firm and tightly split. Already he could see evidence of his rough handling, but it was nothing to what was coming, he thought.

The next spank was a satisfying crack that echoed off her bare bottom and around the room.

“Yeow,” she yelped, “you bastard.”

Undeterred he set to with a spanking that would have made his parents proud.

All through it Alice kicked and squirmed and regaled him with choice words that she had never put in one of her books.

“I’m calling the police you… I’ll have you done for assault, sexual assault, spanking without a licence…” she raged on.

Her bottom was evidently quite toasty looking, so he stopped and dumped her on the floor. Then while she knelt panting and rubbing her bottom he got the phone.

“It’s 999,” he said, handing her the handset.

She glared at it.

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious; make the call, because if you don’t, we are going to continue this, even if you can’t sit down for a week.”

“Look alright I’m sorry but…”

“No,” he said with a shrug, putting down the phone.

In a moment he hauled her back over his knee and resumed the spanking.

“Stop it,” she cried, as she renewed her struggles.

“No,” he said with finality.

The next 10 minutes were difficult for Alice. Her bottom went from stinging to acquiring a real tang that she associated with a badly scraped knee or a Chinese burn as a child. Only this was on her bottom.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she began to choke tearfully.

He paused.

“You can go to the corner and think about things now.”

“I won’t,” she retorted angrily.

The spanking resumed.

“Alright, Ok, whatever,” she sobbed.

He watched as she sheepishly gained her feet and trudged to the corner.

“Now stay there until I tell you to come out.”

Alice stood glowering at the point where the two walls met and feeling an utter fool. Then all her fears and anger came rushing in and she started to cry in earnest.

Michael didn’t relent. He kept her there for half an hour before telling her turn around.

If he expected another tantrum, she disappointed him.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I do love you.”

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

“Only if you promise not to spank me,” she said in a little voice.

“No deal.”

There was a long pause; a life time for both of them.

“Ok then. I guess I’ll have to take a chance.”

The following hug ended in the bedroom.

“Careful,” she gasped, as she rolled over having lay back on the bed. “You weren’t kidding about me not being able to sit down.”

His stomach tightened at the sight of her red bottom and he was ready. She usually resisted this angle of approach, but this time she yielded without a fuss.

*

Later as she snuggled in to him, her mind raced with possibilities, both for her life and marriage and her next book.

“Vanilla Twist,” she said aloud.

“No thanks,” he laughed.

“No. Not ice-cream, it’s the title of my next book.” There was a faraway look in her eye. The one she always got when she had an idea. “It will be about a respectable married couple who look boring on the outside, but have a secret life.”

“Will the heroine be getting a spanking whenever she is a brat?” he asked.

“I guess we will just have to see,” Alice replied.

Ends.



8 Responses to “Vanilla Twist”

  1. 1 anushree

    this is just what I was talking about. Love it, dj.:-D

  2. I was suppose to be in bed a long, long time ago, it is 3am, but saw you posted, came racing across, and oh my, was not disappointed one bit. Loved this – both my favourite things in one story…eh, spanking and ice cream!

  3. 3 paul1510

    DJ, great story, the two best things about the D D lifestyle, the spanking, and making up. 😀
    Paul.

  4. 4 scarlet

    This was wonderful–I loved it. xo

  5. Followed the CHROSS listing (congrats by the way!).. and it was worth the CLICK! Loved this!

  6. 6 DJ

    Hi All and welcome Zelle

    This seems to be a winner – partly a response to requests for more MF – partly cos like a lot of my stories it has been rattling around in my head for a while.

    Many thanks. 😉

    DJ

  7. 7 anushree

    I wonder who has been making the requests?


  1. 1 chross.blogt.ch - Chross Guide To The Spanking Internet

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