Authors: D. T. Jones
“Nor do I, but you said you were never given the choice whether to work or not,” he reminded her. “You said you didn’t want to spend your adult life barefoot and pregnant, and I don’t want that either. Granted, I did take the upper hand by deciding that you wouldn’t work after we were married, but that was because I’m extremely greedy; I want you in my life all day long and not exhausted by evening. Unless of course, I’m the one to put you in that state.” He smiled knowing she was blushing under that layer of green concrete.
“I suppose I just assumed you wouldn’t want to work,” he continued, his long fingers moving up her leg to the skin that was covered by water. “My mother had a hard job raising five kids and since we have a farm, I just
assumed you would want to concentrate on that rather than a 9 to 5 career. But you said it, so I’m going to make you eat those words. I want you by my side when I go to work, when I take trips, when I make those life changing decisions of whether to buy a farm or a new auto. You need to understand how my business runs and perhaps someday our children will be in charge. Until then, it’s up to us. You are my partner in life and in business.” He slapped her inner thigh suddenly, watching her eyes widen in surprise.
“Come on, get that stuff washed off. Breakfast is ready and I have a lot planned today before we can return to our honeymoon. You need to go through these reports with me and if you are very good and keep the sulking to a minimum, I
promise to reward you thoroughly.” He stood up and winked at her as he walked back toward the door. “I’m giving you five minutes, don’t keep me waiting or I’ll turn you over my knee.” Sandra tried to smile at the thought of playing with him, and actually felt the fire of temptation begin to awaken inside her. He turned and narrowed his eyes, as though reading her mind.
“Don’t try it,” he warned her with a wicked grin. “I have many, many things planned for you and that beautiful body today, but first you’re going to feed our child. The last thing I need is for you to puke all over me. Now get out and come downstairs. I have an outfit for you on the bed. Every order you take from me today, without hesitation
, will be rewarded greatly. Delay will only increase the level of punishment you receive.” Creighton shut the door and left Sandra sitting in the tub staring at him. She knew he would never harm her, but she had no idea what he had planned for her either. The temptation was growing, only now it had a different path to take than defiance. She was very eager to know what he had in mind for her.
Five minutes passed by before she stepped back into the bedroom. The dim light from the lamps bathed the windowless room in a romantic glow. She glanced up to the table sitting in the corner of the room and blushed. After using it at Rochelle’s, she was certain he had something wickedly delicious in store for it.
Sandra walked to the bed and found the leather thong that went with her matching bustier and blushed. There was a pair of black nylons, her thigh high black boots and the diamond and sapphire necklace he had given her on their wedding day, but there was no top, no bra, not even a robe to cover up with. She found the blush stinging her delicate face as she quickly donned the
outfit
. This was going to be an interesting breakfast, she thought as she went to the closet to find her belongings had been unpacked and put away. The black bag with their toys was missing, but her toiletries were on the shelf in the walk-in closet. She sprayed a small amount of cologne on specific areas of her body; those she knew he would be paying close attention to, and hurried downstairs. Her hair was damp, though quickly drying and left loose around her shoulders and her slightly bulging tummy pocked out from above the top of the leather strap to her heart shaped panties.
Creighton waited at the table for her to join him, the newspaper open in his front of him as he sipped on a cup of coffee. He glanced up when she walked down the stairs and smiled seductively. Moving the paper aside, he stood and walked to the opposite side of the table, holding the chair out for her. On the table next to her seat was the string of red beads, the gel and the spanking board, along with a single set of feline covered handcuffs and the wand. She glanced up at the man who didn’t reply, but
raised a single eyebrow in silent challenge.
Sandra sat in the chair and took the napkin from beneath the silverware, placing it across her lap as he walked into the kitchen. The sound of the oven opened
and shut again and a few seconds later she had her plate of
bangers
and eggs in front of her. Toast was on the table along with some of her grandmother’s homemade preserves and a large glass of milk.
“Eat,” he ordered as he walked to the seat he had abandoned a few minutes before and sat down. “Finish all that is in front of you and I will allow you to choose which item I will torture you with first. Disobey and I chose the method of punishment.” Sandra fought back the desire to laugh and said nothing as she picked up a sausage and began eating it. She was hungrier than she had thought, or else the idea of what was about to happen had increased her appetite. She drank her milk, ate two slices of multi
-grain toast with raspberry preserves then turned her attention back the scrambled eggs. Once they were gone she picked up the last sausage and sighed.
She had
n’t decided between the paths of punishment or reward, but knowing he was watching her gave her a wicked idea. Sandra slowly began to run the tip of her tongue along the length of the three inch long banger, caressing it and tasting it, moaning softly but just loud enough so he could hear. She slipped the tip of it into her mouth and swirled the end with her tongue. The heat of his gaze burned into her flesh as he watched with interest. Sandra closed her eyes, slowly moving the sausage in and out of her mouth, moaning again, this time a bit louder; she could feel her actions begin to play havoc on her own body, the heat and moisture between her legs assuring her that it was not just he that was being tortured by her actions.
Sandra glanced up to look at him beneath her long lashes and nearly laughed as he slid his tongue out to moisten his lips, his hand disappearing under the table. She knew she was affecting his libido and could feel his eyes on her as his hand moved slowly
across his own swollen body. Without warning, she slipped the sausage once more into her mouth and bit down. Creighton gasped audibly, his hand on his lap stopped moving and his eyes widened in shock and alarm. Sandra looked at him innocently, batting her eyes as she chewed the meat to hide her amusement.
“I am not sure if you should be rewarded or punished,” he growled.
“For what?” she asked innocently. “You told me to eat everything in front of me, and I have. I was only doing as you ordered.”
“And so you have,” he
grinned wickedly. “Now we can move on to other subjects. You are going to review the papers that were sent over to us and if you are a very astute pupil, as I know you can be, and you learn the first lesson of what I have to teach you, then you will be rewarded quite nicely. If you object or throw a tantrum, then I will return the items beside you to their bag and we will not continue.”
“That’s not fair!” she snapped. “You cannot punish me for not learning everything in one day
by withholding sex from me.”
“I didn’t say you were going to learn everything in one day, and yes I can withhold sex from you.
Women do it to men all the time; I’m just returning the favor.”
“When have I ever denied you?”
“Never, but then again I haven’t given you the chance. Now decide; are we going to get on with this so we can have a wonderful day filled with passion and excitement, or are you going to spend the rest of our honeymoon pouting?”
“I do not pout,” she argued, folding her arms across her chest, hiding her breasts from his gaze.
“What are you doing now?” he asked with the hint of amusement in his tone. Sandra drew a deep breath and sighed, glancing next to her to the toys she was eager to play with.
“Fine, teach me how to become a multimillionaire eco-crazed nut like you are.”
“Insulting me will only delay your reward or increase the punishment, whichever you choose,” he told her in a quiet voice as he rose from his seat and walked around the table. He turned her chair and knelt down in front of her, moving her arms away from her firm breasts.
“Let’s c
onsider a compromise,” he told her in a tone barely above a whisper. “I will find it very hard to concentrate with you looking like this and you can use your attire to your advantage. We will work only until I can bear no more; use your time wisely and your lessons will end sooner than I would like.” Sandra smiled at him; he was giving her an out, but she knew that this was only the first time he would insist she learn his business. Perhaps she could delay his relief by trying to understand what he had to teach her; after all, he had played with her and kept her frustrated more times than she could count while they were in Kansas.
“Shall we begin?” she asked him in a voice dripping with sugar. Creighton frowned; she was up to something, he could tell, but right now, looking at her with her breasts at eye level was making it difficult for him to concentrate.
The gauntlet was placed as were the rules and he found the challenge intriguing and delightful. He would make her play his game and in return, he would play hers; he knew she had wanted spanked and was confident that it was now safe enough to do so, with limitations. He would make certain she was well rewarded for her attentive behavior and he knew just from looking at her, she was going to try playing with fire again. This time, he would let her get burned before setting her on fire.
Three hours passed before Sandra found the need to tell him to stop. Her head was swimming with all the information
he was feeding her and she felt exhausted and hungry. He had explained the theory behind organic gardening, his lemonade business and the orchards he owned. She learned the need to reinvest the profits back into the company and had reviewed last quarter’s reports with him. Besides the organic side of his success and the security systems he developed, Creighton’s company produced high tech satellite phones and satellite dishes, high-bred technology for buildings, cars and machinery and was highly invested in restoration of landmarks and preservation of natural resources. He owned nearly four hundred homes, apartment complexes and business buildings around the world, along with more than a hundred cars, all being fitted to run off natural resources. Right now his company was working on a sophisticated tracking device that would allow authorities to find and locate missing persons or escaped convicts.
Sandra had been presented with a credit card for each of Cre
ighton’s five personal accounts, even though she insisted she didn’t want them; given keys to his flats in England, Versailles, Australia and New York as well as the Mercedes he always drove as well as the one he had recently ordered; a Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG Coupe. He was as excited as a child when he explained that it was an all-electric sports car, the latest model with all the bells and whistles, naturally.
She was given the security codes for both entering and alerting authorities
to his businesses and the house in Yorkshire and told that he would be teaching her to drive on the opposite side of the road once they were moved into their new home.
By the time they took a break for lunch, her
head ached, her stomach growled and her breasts felt heavy and cold having been subjected to nothing more than his lustful glances and an occasional brush of his thumb or kiss of his lips. This was not how she planned on ending her honeymoon; finances were never her favorite course in school and she particularly did not like it now. When he told her she was a wealthy woman by marrying him, she had no idea how wealthy until he insisted she see his bank accounts. She about swallowed her tongue when she saw how much was in each one. The last time she had seen that many digits in one place, was when she called her Aunt Margaret in Georgia!
“We’ll put this away for now, but I still have a lot more to show you and explain,” he told her as he took her hand and walked into the kitchen, pulling the fridge open. “This is just the tip of
iceberg.”
“Please explain to me again, why I have to know all of this stuff? Don’t you have a vice president or a second in command
that takes care of everything when you’re not around?”
“No, I have Michelle. She is my personal assistant, but even she has no idea what all is involved in running a firm of this magnitude. That’s why I need you by my side.” Creighton removed a covered plastic container and placed it on the counter as they spoke, then closed the fridge and walked to the pantry where he retrieved a loaf of bread and a can of cream of chicken soup.
“You are much brighter than you give yourself credit,” he told her taking the lid off the container and opened the soup. He mixed it in the blender with a cup of milk and then added some chopped celery from a bag in the fridge. Sandra was amazed at how easily he moved about the kitchen and worked the appliances; about the most she ever used was the microwave. Once he mixed the soup concoction into a chicken and rice casserole, he put it into the microwave and set it for ten minutes.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, frowning at the expression she wore.
“I feel like I’ve walked into the middle of a movie. You seem so calm about all of this, everything; the money, the technology, even cooking. I feel like I should be sitting on a shelf somewhere out of the way. I’ll never be able to do any of this like you can, even if I worked at it the rest of my life. I’m just not the type of person who can figure out the ins and outs of a Fortune 500 company or its owner.”