Confessions of a Kinky Wife

‘Oh, shut up, Pip.’

I buttoned my lip. He sounded on the verge of tears, bless him.

‘I mean, if I’m going to do this, I want to do it right.’

That’s very Dan, that is. He’s not a man to do anything by halves, and he doesn’t shirk the difficult bits.

‘Yes, but that book … it’s only one way of doing things. One guy’s way. We don’t have to follow it to the letter, do we? We can tailor our own version.’

‘Yeah, I know, I agree. But it’s too soon for that. I’m feeling my way … yes, yes, I know, literally. Don’t say it. I need the book, just while I’m establishing my own rules and routines.’

‘It’s like a hand to hold?’

‘Yeah.’

‘While the other hand is busy … elsewhere.’

‘Pip, you seem remarkably cheerful for somebody who’s just been soundly punished. Why is that?’

I nuzzled his neck and kissed him. I felt madly, blissfully, hormonally in love with him. I mean, more than usually. It was weird.

‘Because it makes me feel loved. How upside-down is that? I can’t really explain it any better. And I don’t mean I didn’t already feel loved – because I did. But it makes me feel really deep-down cared for.’

He blinked at me a few times in rapid succession.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘That’s funny. It’s something the book mentioned, but it also said I had to be careful afterwards, to make sure you realised I didn’t dislike you or, or, you know, wasn’t doing it to … Well, the thing is, I’m supposed to cheer you up afterwards. I’m supposed to tell you everything’s OK and I love you and everything’s forgotten and forgiven. But … it’s like … you’re doing that. I’m confused.’

‘It’s early days, darling. It’s a learning curve, for both of us.’

I had to smother the desire to make some pathetic joke about how he was learning about my curves. Perhaps I should add that to the sin list. Inappropriate punning will be punished. God, I really can’t help myself.

‘I’m sorry, love. I don’t mean to be a dithering plank. I want to be all manly and firm-chinned and resolute and all that. I feel I’m failing in that.’

‘You’re the manliest, most resolute and firmest-chinned man on the planet, Daniel Wheatley. Don’t let anyone tell you different.’

He seemed happy with that.

3 August

I was optimistic about the direction all this was taking. And then I took a look at Book 2 of The Book.

I wasn’t supposed to look at it.

Dan has been guarding it with his life since I brought it back from the sorting office. He wrestled it off me within seconds and disappeared into the bedroom with it.

When I followed him, he clutched it to his chest and ordered me out.

‘Can’t I see? It’s my business, surely.’

‘No, it isn’t. I need to inwardly digest it before I can share it. Pip, don’t. If you come any closer, I’ll have to, to spank you.’

He sounded too anxious to be convincing, but I thought I’d let him have his way in this precisely because of that. Poor Dan. I wanted to make this easier for him.

But would making it easier for him make it harder for me?

I had to know.

So, having two hours before he was expected home from his shift, I went on a book hunt.