"Grace is not, however, and she's pregnant." Alex had told them while they were in the stables. From Irene's lack of surprise, Hugh knew that she was aware as well. "Eleanor is still recovering from childbirth."
SMACK!
Irene yelped again, but some of her own temper came to the forefront. "Eleanor is perfectly fine! That's what she was trying to demonstrate!"
SMACK! Another yelp. Hugh rubbed the hairbrush over her already burning cheeks, making them sting.
"I suppose that was Cynthia's idea. Well, Eleanor knows perfectly well she isn't supposed to be pushing herself like that, and you knew it too. Which is why you're being punished."
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
The
flurry of firm blows against her bottom had Irene howling and squirming. Hugh was showing her absolutely no mercy, he hadn't even given her a warm-up spanking with his palm like he normally did, and she was having trouble adjusting to the fierce sting of the hairbrush on her cool, pale cheeks.
"I expect you to be a good influence on your friends, not be corrupted by them."
SMACK! SMACK!
"You should have come and told me as soon as you knew that Eleanor was going to do something she shouldn't."
SMACK! SMACK!
"I am your husband and your first loyalty should be to me."
SMACK! SMACK!
He actually sounded a little hurt as he said that, and Irene felt the faintest flicker of remorse through her resentment as her bottom flared and sparked with pain. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings... it was just...
"But they're my friends!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"And as your friends, they shouldn't be so hell-bent on getting you in trouble," Hugh said firmly. Then, to her horror, he turned the brush over and rubbed the stiff bristles against her flaming skin. Irene shrieked. The normally soft bristles felt like sandpaper, rasping over her sensitive cheeks, making her writhe and try to reach back to stop him.
A futile exercise. Hugh easily grabbed her hands and held them in place in the small of her back, leaving her to kick and cry as her stinging bottom was assaulted in an entirely new way.
"You're a people pleaser, sweetheart, and I understand that, but the very first person you need to please is me. You need to choose me over your friends, especially when they're doing something that could be harmful to them, even if it's not particularly harmful to you. Don't just say 'yes' to everything they suggest, use your own judgment."
That was certainly something no one had ever said to Irene before. All her life she'd always had to say yes to whatever her parents wanted - mostly what her mother wanted. Now she mostly said yes to whatever Hugh wanted. But then, there were times when she told him no or asked him for something different. Most of the time, he didn't mind and it had made her braver.
Why hadn't she been able to do that with her friends? Was she worried that they would no longer like her afterwards?
Why did she trust that Hugh would still love her, but worried that they wouldn't?
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Her introspective thoughts flew out of her head as Hugh flipped the brush back over her brought it down on her bottom with firm, crisp swats that had her howling again. The rubbing bristles had made her skin feel even more sensitive than before, and she was soon kicking her legs and begging him to stop. His point had been made. She needed to stop letting herself be drawn into the wild schemes of her friends - she wasn't going to be a snitch, but she could certainly try to convince them not to do things. And not allow herself to be drawn into their schemes even if she couldn't persuade them otherwise.
From the way her bottom was burning, this wasn't a lesson she would soon forget.
Although, when Hugh was finished blistering her bottom, and he tossed the hairbrush aside, she forgot everything but the burning meld of pain and pleasure as he climbed between her legs and pounded her into the bed, heedless of her throbbing bottom as it bounced against the surface beneath her. Clawing at his back, Irene screamed his name as she came, pulsing around his cock before he emptied what felt like a gallon of seed into her waiting womb.
Nine months later, he was willing to swear that was the day their daughter had been conceived, which would account for her stubborn, wild ways.
******
Seething, Alex had led Grace's horse back to the stable, reigns firmly in his hand, while she haughtily maintained icy composure. She hadn't been very hard to catch. His Gracie was a passing horsewoman, but in comparison to Irene or Eleanor, or himself, she wasn't able to hold her own. Alex would have been hesitant to let her participate in a horse race even if she hadn't been pregnant.