Changing the Rules

A fantasy that combines the recent discussions of nonmonogomy and my serious need for whacking...

The smell of work followed Sara home - smoke thick in her hair, spilled beer on her clothes.  Her makeup was heavy, she hadn't taken the time to remove it before heading home from the club.  But her heart was heavier, the pain there outweighing all other concerns.

"Hey baby," Melanie called from the couch, her voice quickly changing with concern, "What's the matter?"

"I don't wanna have an open relationship anymore," Sara said the words quickly, as if she had rehearsed them in her head.

Melanie's heart skipped a beat, then settled.  Sara was inclined to bold gestures, a discussion usually resolved the problem with a much milder change.  Melanie held out her arms and Sara settled into her lap, Sara's head against Mel's shoulder.  Mel wrapped her arms around Sara before saying, "Just tell me what's the matter, baby."

The story spilled out in broken bits and pieces.  As Melanie had expected, it wasn't their relationship that was the problem.  The problem was external pressure; the situations Sara got into working as a stripper.  Sara's inability to say no when she had no rules to guide her.

"What if I had to approve your external relationships?  Would that help?  Then you wouldn't have to say no yourself."  Melanie offered after a moment of contemplation.

"Like you do at parties?  I say I have to ask you for permission so you can tell them no?"

"Exactly like that, precious."

Sara snuggled in closer, "Yeah, I think that would work.  But you're not gonna make me approve yours, right?"

Melanie chuckled, she couldn't imagine anything that would put Sara further out of her comfort zone.  Their version of nonmonogomy had never been identical on both sides, but it served their needs.  "Of course not.  You still have a veto, but you don't have to approve them."

"Play with me?" Sara whispered.

"Not tonight, love.  We're both tired and you need a shower.  We'll do a scene tomorrow, when we've got the whole day.  Come on, let me take a shower with you."

*     *     *

"Not punishment," Melanie said after breakfast, "Because you haven't broken our rules.  But affirmation, this is the right change to protect my baby.  And nobody gets to hurt my baby, even her."

Sara nodded, "But I need it to hurt."

"I know," Melanie whispered, pressing her lips to Sara's forehead before taking her to the bedroom.

Melanie took out a tawse first, she wanted to put Sara into a submissive headspace quickly.  Taking Sara's hands, she arranged them one atop the other.  Then she lined up the tawse, taking one light stroke for aim.

"You've been using these hands for naughty things, haven't you?"

Sara nodded, eyes on the tawse.  Her eyes shut tightly when Melanie brought the impliment down full force on her palm.

"Give me the other.  You'll think about what you're doing in the future, won't you?"

Sara nodded again and they fell into a rhythm.  Sara changed hands automatically as Melanie's lecture rolled over her.

Melanie inspected Sara's reddened palms, "Enough.  Take down your pants."

Sara's pajama pants dropped to the floor.  Automatically, she picked them up and folded them before setting them aside.

"On the corner of the bed, I want your legs spread wide and your hands behind your head."  Melanie directed as she exchanged the tawse for a bathbrush.  She considered Sara's position with narrowed eyes, "You've opened your legs for how many meaningless guys?  Open them wider for me."

Sara moaned but followed the directions.

Melanie traced Sara's inner thighs with her fingernails, "Now, how many guys that you regret, precious?"

Sara eyed the bathbrush and bit her lip.  "Six?"

"Is that an answer or a question?"

"An answer.  Six."

Melanie patted Sara's thigh, then scrapped it with her fingernails again, "What was the first one's name?"

"Mark."  The moment the name crossed Sara's lips, Melanie struck Sara's inner thigh with the bathbrush, raising a red oval.  Sara drew in a sharp breath.

"The next one?" Melanie tapped the brush against a matching spot on Sara's other leg.

"Matt," Sara closed her eyes as she said the name.  A matching red oval appeard on her other thigh.

"Greg," another red oval joined the first.

"Cody," a fourth red mark made matching pairs.

"Keep your legs well apart," Melanie instructed, running the bristles of the brush up Sara's tender thighs, "Who was the next one?"

Sara gave Melanie a pained look, "I don't know his name."

Melanie turned the brush, tapping the wooden side against Sara's private bits.  "You shared this with someone whose name you don't even know?"

Sara bit her lip nervously, before she whispered, "Yeah."

Melanie shook her head, "Someone really needs to protect you from yourself, love."  Even knowing that person was her, Melanie smacked the brush against Sara's most sensitive spot - once, twice, a third time.  She watched Sara's muscles tighten against the pain, then relax into it.  A fourth time elicited a wordless cry, but the fifth and sixth were simply sharp intakes of breath.

"For the nameless one," Melanie said, adding a fifth red oval to the inside of Sara's thighs.  "And the sixth one," the final oval appeared on the other thigh.

(To be continued...)