Story by The Boss;
Artwork by Invidia

Sharon touched up her makeup in the car’s visor mirror. Happy with the results, she closed her compact with a snap.

David appreciated what he saw as well. Sharon had classic pouty lips and nice figure but her best feature was a nicely curved butt. She was wearing a short red dress that had ridden up her thigh while she was sitting in the car for the ride.

She glanced at her husband and said admonishingly, “I know what you’re thinking, and you can just forget it. We’re going to this party and no funny business.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I was going to say the same to you. You make sure to behave tonight, eh?”

Sharon narrowed her eyes, “You wouldn’t dare do anything!”

“Wouldn’t I? Don’t get out of line and you won’t have to find out.”

She exited the car without replying but her posture radiated defiance. Before she met David, she had run roughshod over every previous boyfriend and earned the nickname Hurricane Sharon. The cowed suitors either ended up running away or being dumped in disgust by her… but all that changed when she met David. Her future husband had not courted her so much as conquered. The relationship had been quite stormy but in the end, she had surrendered.

And if she walked a bit gingerly down the aisle at their wedding, no one mentioned it.

Sharon walked faster than David up the full driveway and rang the doorbell before he reached her. The hostess opened the door, “Sharon! Thanks for coming. Where’s David?”

She rolled her eyes, “He’s back there somewhere. You know how slow he is.”

“Not so,” he commented as he arrived. “The evening was just so nice; I took the long way around. Sounds like a good party, Merrill.” The sounds of merriment poured out of the open door.

She laughed, “I hope so, come on in!”

The noise had not lied. There were several dozen people already there and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Music was playing in the background but it could barely be heard above the buzz of conversation. Merrill’s husband, Brad, was acting as the bartender and was chatting with some of his friends over the liquor and bar accouterments.

David drifted over to the bar, “Hey, Brad. ‘Sup?”

“A bit of this, a bit of that. How’s married life treating you?”

“One month in and it’s working so far. No complaints.” David smiled and took one of the margaritas that were already made up.

Brad glanced over at Sharon who was chatting with some of her friends near the fireplace. “If you don’t my saying, she’s been so different since you and she got together.”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Oh, definitely good. Before then she was, well…” he stopping before completing the sentence.

“A raving bitch?” David laughed, “Oh, don’t be shy. I got into this with my eyes open.”

Brad cleared his throat, “At any rate, you’ve been good for her.” He had been one of the guys that had been sunk by Hurricane Sharon but wasn’t bitter. He had found Merrill on the rebound and was much happier for it.

“Once she gets past herself, she’s a very affectionate person. I just have to keep a firm grip on that other side.”

As the evening wore on, though, it was obvious that the old Sharon wasn’t completely gone. After a few drinks, she went from coy to catty. A few more and she was downright unpleasant. Brad found her telling a story about how she had stolen a man away from his girlfriend. It might’ve been funny except that both of the other people involved in the story were currently at the party and looking very uncomfortable indeed.

He stepped up beside her before the climax of her anecdote and took her firmly by the elbow, “It’s time to go, dear.”

“Whaddr you talkin’ about? We just got here!” Her voice was slightly slurred but all the way insolent.

“No, we’ve definitely been here long enough.” He deftly maneuvered her drink out of her hand and deposited it on the mantel of the nearby fireplace.

“Let go of me, I’m not going anywhere!” She let loose with a string of profanities and struggled to free her arm.

David let the steel into his voice. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Something in his tone finally penetrated and she felt a cold shock douse her mood. “Now, honey, there’s no need…”

“Thanks for inviting us, Brad. Merrill. We had a great time.” Hand still on her elbow; he escorted his wife out of the house

She protested again as he put her into the car. She hated the pleading tone in her voice but couldn’t stop it. “Honey, please. I know I had a little too much to drink, but…”

“Quiet. Don’t speak again until I give you permission.” The rest of the trip home was in uncomfortable silence. Sharon tried not to look at her husband but occasionally had to glance over. His stony expression caused her to shudder but she couldn’t muster the courage to argue her case. The last time he had been this angry… she refused to recall the memory. The long, quiet ride was sobering in more ways than one for the frightened woman.

They arrived home in silence. She sat there after he had parked the car, not sure what he had planned but knowing she wouldn’t like it in the slightest. After a few moments, he ordered, “Go to our bedroom, get undressed and wait for me there.” He pointed at her admonishingly, “Don’t you DARE speak to me. Go!”

She went.

Sharon scurried to the bedroom. Almost against her will, she began to disrobe. Her party dress was neither complicated nor overly large and took almost no time to remove. She put it neatly over the footboard of their bed and put her shoes in the closet. Even if she dragged it out, she was moments from being nude and knew that David’s wrath would only be multiplied if she tarried. She unhooked her bra and draped it over her dress. Taking as much time as she dared, she rolled her panties over her shapely hips and then put them under her bra.

The nervous perspiration that had formed on the ride home caused her breasts to chill and made her nipples crinkle almost painfully. She stood there, nude, waiting nervously. There were no clocks visible from where she was standing and she didn’t feel brave enough to move from the center of the room. But every moment made her more aware of her exposed position and she could hardly stand still from the punishment to come.

It was almost a relief when the door opened. That relief was short-lived when she saw what he held. Before they had gotten married, he had purchased an acrylic cane and had told her, “I want to make it absolutely clear to you that there is only room for one person to be in charge of this relationship and that’s me. If you get out of line, I’m going to use this on you and I’m not going to hold back. You either accept that or you leave now.” David was the best thing that had ever happened to her and made her feel good about herself. In the end, she accepted his authority… mostly.

Only once had she crossed him to the point of getting punished. Once, that is, before tonight. Last time, he had given her twenty swats across her bare ass with just his hand. Sharon had never been physically punished even as a child and it had hurt more than could have imagined. She had sobbingly promised not to disrespect him again. Their lovemaking had been shatteringly good that night, as if, in her surrender, she had become more feminine and passionate.

David just stared at her naked form, one hand holding the grip of the cane with the rest of the length lying in his left hand. Sharon felt her body flush hot and then cold and the urge to begin pleading again was almost overwhelming. She began to tremble and thought that she would collapse when he finally spoke. “Bend over the back of my chair and put your hands on the front edge of the seat. Don’t stand up and don’t move your hands until I tell you to.”

On shaky legs she went to the large overstuffed chair that David had insisted would be in their bedroom. With trepidation she leaned over the chair back and reached out so could she touch the front of the cushion as instructed. The cushiony top of the seat back meant she could lean like this without discomfort but she was forced onto her toes to maintain her position. The blood rushed to her face, either from embarrassment or from the fact that her head was lowered. Sharon was acutely aware that her butt was exposed and vulnerable, skin stretched tight.

“You have disappointed me tonight. I made it quite clear that you were to stay in line and you deliberately embarrassed me. You are going to have to learn proper behavior and proper respect.” He put his left hand firmly on the small of her back and she felt the cane resting against the curve of her ass.

“Now, do you have anything to say for yourself before I start your punishment?”

The words burst forth from her, “Please, please don’t do this! I’m really sorry. I drank too much and was stupid. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She was babbling, begging, not caring what she said as long as it might forestall him.

“Stop. You’re not sorry, not really. You’re just afraid of the beating I’m about to give you. Maybe afterwards you’ll be truly contrite. We’ll see.”

She felt him shift and the cane moved from her butt, then she felt pain like lightning. She shrieked and tried to stand but her position and the hand on her back made attempts at movement futile.

Her fear was gone and replaced by anger. “Let me up!”

“I warned you about talking without permission. That means more strokes for you.” True to his word, he struck her butt twice more in quick succession. Each time her vision went red as pain exploded in her ass. She tossed her head and kicked uselessly but he was implacable and relentless. Five punishing strokes later, her buttocks ablaze, she finally shuddered and put her legs back down. Sharon was sobbing with pain and tears ran down onto the chair cushion.

“Now that you are in position, we can start your punishment.” He set about methodically giving her stroke after stroke, raising scarlet welts to join the earlier ones. She cried out with each blow but the fight had gone out of her and her struggles ended.

David sensed she had submitted but continued caning her until he reached the total he had determined earlier. “Stand up,” he finally said after an eternity of pain.

“S-sir?” she quavered, hardly believing he was done. Truthfully, he wasn’t… not quite.

“You publically embarrassed me tonight. I want you to know what that feels like. Go draw the curtains in front of the bay windows. Keep your hands on your head. Face outwards.”

“Oh, David, please…”

“Go now before I add some more stripes to your ass.”

Sniffing back the tears that still flowed somewhat, she pulled back the curtains and stood as ordered. Mortified she hoped no one would look at her nakedness. She was glad that even if someone did see her that no one could see her well-marked backside.

She heard David shift his chair around but didn’t dare turn but she spotted him relaxing in it from the reflection in the glass of the window. He had a drink in one hand and seemed to be enjoying himself.

Okay, ONE person could see her butt!

Some tiny, unrepentant corner of her mind was tempted to disobey even now, but Hurricane Sharon had finally blown out.