"Over your..." Irene's soft voice trailed off as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.
"Over my knee and spank you."
"You wouldn't!"
"I would," he said, a little grimly. The last thing Hugh wanted was a wife that he had to constantly keep in line with a spanking, he'd gotten a certain thrill from being in such a powerful position when it came to his sister and the discipline he'd meted out to her while his father was teaching him how to handle a household, but he didn't need that thrill with Irene. He had chosen her because he wanted a docile wife that didn't require punishment, but he wouldn't hesitate to give it to her when the situation warranted it. He was of the opinion that it was best to nip any kind of rebellion in the bud immediately, rather than let it fester and allow her to think that it would be tolerated. Especially when it came to her safety. "Promise me that you won't go near him again or I'll give you a taste right now."
"You can't!"
The expression on Irene's face plainly said that she didn't believe his threat. In the time that she'd come to know Hugh she'd seen mostly his gentle side and his lustful side, she didn't realize that it was because she'd never provoked the disciplinarian in him. Her mother had never spanked her - she'd never needed to. When Irene was seven years old, the Baroness had taken her below stairs to see one of the maids being punished with a cane. For what transgression Irene didn't know, all she remembered was the screams and howls, the horrifying bright red welts across the girl’s skin, the sobbing, the pleading, and her mother's cold voice in her ear - 'If you ever misbehave, Irene, then I will spank you just like that.'
She absolutely did not believe that gentle Hugh could do something so awful to her.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I will.”
Unfortunately for her, Hugh was quickly realizing that his wife was going to require a demonstration. Not something he was eager to give. With a few long strides he had them over by the bales of hay and he had Irene bent over a stack of two before she could do more than gasp. It was just high enough that her toes were barely touching the ground, he didn't need to do more than flip up her skirts and place his hand in the small of her back to keep both the fabric and her pinned in place.
The moment he had her skirts up he suddenly understood what Edwin and Wesley had meant when they'd told him that disciplining his sister was going to be unlike disciplining his wife. When he'd spanked Eleanor he'd seen quite a bit of her private areas, but he'd never thought of them as particularly interesting. He'd assumed that when it came to disciplinary measures that it would be the same with any female.
But he had his usual immediate reaction to his wife's skirts being flipped up, exposing her creamy bottom and the soft pink of her quim, framed by coppery curls.
"Hugh, please! Don't!" Irene's voice came out high, shrill, panicked.
He ignored her plea, it was too late. On top of that, he was fascinated by the revelation that his cock was hardening as he prepared to introduce his wife to discipline, and by the excitement that rose in him as he raised his hand.
SMACK!
Irene screamed, much more loudly than the pain warranted it. Because Hugh had experience in such matters he realized that immediately and so felt no guilt about ignoring what he considered an over-dramatization of her distress. He didn't realize that she was screaming as much in terror as she was in reaction to the actual slap of his hand against her bottom. It took a moment to dazedly realize that the strike hadn't hurt nearly as much as she had expected before another one landed on her other cheek.
SLAP!
This time she just yelped, her fingers digging into the hay. She was confused. Frightened. Still surprised that he was using his hand. Was some awful instrument still to come?
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Since she was obviously such a novice to this kind of experience, Hugh peppered her creamy cheeks with short, sharp smacks that would sting and burn for the afternoon but no longer. He would turn her bottom a warm pink. The experienced disciplinarian in him went to work while the new husband in him watched, fascinated, as his wife's flesh jiggled and bounced under the slap of his hand. His cock pressed against the front of his breeches as he warmed her bottom, almost appalling him with his eager response to her soft cries.
As the spanking continued the stinging pain began to increase and now Irene really did begin to cry, having gotten over her shock and feeling her tender skin begin to burn.
"Hugh! Stop! Please! I'll be good, I won't go near Rex again, please stop! I promise, I’ll listen to you!"
Her legs kicked as she
begged and pleaded, but Hugh didn't stop, even though she sounded quite sincere, because he'd just noticed something else equally fascinating.
As her limbs kicked and parted, he caught a glimpse of shiny pink wetness. Leaning closer as he smacked her bottom again and again, he smelled the musky sweetness of her arousal, saw the honey that was now slicking her soft folds. His wife was aroused as well.
The last flurry of spanks had her squealing and crying out, legs kicking, body bucking... but his hand held her firmly in place until he was done. When it ceased Irene tensed for a moment, waiting for another spank to land, and then her muscles loosed and she slumped onto the hay, sniffling and feeling very sorry for herself. While she hadn't screamed or wailed the way the maid in her memory had, there was no doubt that her husband was a cruel and heartless monster for using her so ill!
She was ashamed of herself for starting to think that she might have feelings for both him and Alex. Alex would never have treated her - or anyone else this way! Irene was almost beside herself that Hugh had carried out a punishment that even her mother had never actually used on her.
But what truly shocked her was when she felt his hands on either side of her bottom, parting her, and then his hot wet mouth planted itself on her most intimate area. Her body shuddered and bucked as hot pleasure sliced through her, almost paralyzing in its intensity.
"Hugh... noooooooo..." She moaned in utter humiliation as familiar sensations flared to life in her core. During their honeymoon she'd become used to her breathlessness, her racing pulse... they hadn't seemed disturbing in quite some time. Now they were more disturbing than ever because of the very inappropriateness of the situation! Hugh had just brutally beaten her, she was bent over a hay bale in their stables, and yet her body was responding to him as eagerly as if they were in the privacy of their bed chamber and he had just spent the past half hour kissing her instead of spanking her!
Once again Hugh ignored the plaintive cry coming from his wife. The slick wetness of her pussy was calling to him, the sweetness of her coating his tongue as he licked and sucked at her sensitive flesh. She might be telling him no, but she was making no move to stop him and the eager movements of her body were screaming yes. With one hand he unlaced the front of his breeches as he licked her slit from stem to stern, his other hand braced against the hot pink flesh of her bottom. It seemed to sear his hand with the heat and awed him all over again at how erotic he'd found disciplining his wife to be.