Head of the House

Head of the House

By Jennie May

Copyright 2009

Published by Smashwords

Open Mouth, Insert Liquor

Brenda gazed at her reflection in the antique, freestanding mirror. Her gown fell all the way to the ground, and the pink fabric gathered in satin puddles at her feet. She pushed herself up onto tiptoes. Once she had the right shoes, she knew that the dress would be just right. She would glide across the floor like a princess from a fairy tale.

She pushed her hair to the top of her head and let the chestnut curls fall around her face and neck. She turned her neck a quarter turn to the left and wondered if she should have her hair done professionally for the party. Maybe she should have her makeup done too.

When she had finished daydreaming, she reached to the back of the dress and pulled on the zipper. She hadn’t been able to get the zipper to the top by herself, but the night of the party she would have Aidan there to help her.

Brenda let the light fabric flow off her arms and then carefully stepped out of her gown. She hung it in her closet and then fell onto the bed with a sigh. She and Aidan had been married for more than a year, but she was just as much in love with him now as she had been on their wedding day. She turned her head toward the nightstand and saw their wedding picture there. Aidan worked construction, and it showed in his muscular build. He was tired of swinging a hammer, though. He wanted to go to work every day in a suit and tie. He was almost there, too. One of the managers of the construction company had retired, and they were looking for someone to replace him. Brenda knew that this promotion would mean everything to Aidan. She stared at the picture. She remembered that one of the things she loved so much about him was his drive to succeed. Aidan was not a man to let circumstances stop him from achieving his dreams, and Brenda liked that. It didn’t hurt that he was gorgeous, either. He had blue-gray eyes that sometimes reminded Brenda of the Jersey shore. Brenda bit her lip. Sometimes those eyes reminded her of steel. When Aidan was angry, his eyes would spark and crackle. She knew at those times to tread lightly. Aidan had never lost his temper with her, never hurt her like some of her friends’ boyfriends, but Aidan believed in a traditional relationship between a man and a woman. He was Brenda’s lover, friend and protector. He was strong, physically and in others ways. He gave her freedom and did not micromanage her life, but he did expect her to do as he said.

She remembered the night they’d discussed this arrangement. She and Aidan had only been dating a month or so, but she’d known that she loved him. She’d also known that he was in love with her. He’d picked her up that evening to go to his best friend’s birthday party. She didn’t enjoy spending time with his friends because she didn’t like when his attention wasn’t focused completely on her. She’d dawdled getting ready, taking her time with her clothes and her makeup. Aidan had eventually crashed through the bedroom door of her small apartment and demanded to know what was taking so long.

She remembered how stunned, and also turned on, she was by his abrupt entrance. She’d pretended to be angry and had screamed at him to knock before he entered her room. Then she threw a shoe at him.

She was fairly sure it was the shoe that had pushed him over the edge. He’d approached her slowly, menace in his eyes. He’d held her firmly by the shoulders and had spoken softly but with a voice that could have crushed diamonds. You and I need to come to an understanding.

She remembered looking up at him with wonder in her eyes. Inside she’d been melting, the moisture pooling between her legs. His strength turned her on like nothing she’d ever experienced. An understanding?

I want to be with you, Bren, but there’s a chain of command here. You respect me, and I’ll respect you. But if you ever throw anything at me ever again, I will flip you over my knee and paddle your bottom like a five-year-old. You understand?

She’d been shocked. She did not understand. She’d shaken her head slowly.

That was when he sat her down on the bed and explained to her how it was going to be. From that day on, Brenda had no doubt that Aidan was the man for her. She didn’t mind that he expected obedience. It made her feel loved and protected. She wasn’t crazy about the idea of being spanked, but she told herself that she would just never let it get to that. She wouldn’t throw any more shoes, and she would be just fine.

Brenda smiled to herself, remembering. It hadn’t worked out quite the way she’d planned. The very day after that incident she had burned her finger on the stove and uttered a curse word. Aidan had run her hand under the cool water and applied aloe. They stood together in front of the kitchen sink, and he turned to her. Feel better?

She nodded. Her finger had cooled, and there was only a small red mark from the burn.

Aidan looked into her eyes for a moment. Then he turned her sideways and planted ten or fifteen hard swats on her backside. She could feel it sting even through her pants.

Aidan! she shrieked.

No cursing, he told her and left the room.

Brenda had simply stood there in shock, her bottom tingling. It was the first time, but it wouldn’t be the last.

The evening of the party, Brenda stood naked in front of the mirror in the bathroom. She placed the back onto her fake diamond earrings and tilted her head to get a better view. She pulled back a strand of hair and smiled. She touched her neck, then her shoulder and collar bone. Then her hand drifted down to her small, round breasts.

She felt a burst of steam from the shower behind her, and she turned to see Aidan’s face between the shower curtain and the wall. He was naked and dripping, and he smelled like soap.

If I get that promotion the first thing I’ll do is buy you some real diamonds, he promised. And I want you to wear them just like that.

Like what? Brenda asked, her heart full of love for this wonderful man.

Aidan grinned. With absolutely nothing else on.

Aidan turned off the shower, and Brenda heard the pipes squeak. She handed him a towel. As he stepped out onto the rug just behind Brenda she let out a surprised squeal.

Aidan, you’ll drip all over me!

He grabbed her waist and nuzzled her on the neck, sending shivers down her naked body. She leaned onto him, toward the source of pleasure, and he chucked. Then he slapped her on the bottom and said, You’d better put on something other than earrings.

She scurried into the bedroom and got dressed. Aidan followed her and hopped up onto the bed to watch. He loved seeing his beautiful wife dress and undress. He loved the way she pulled the clothes up over her smooth curves, and he loved watching her turn this way and then another as she studied herself in the full-length mirror. She always asked what he thought of each outfit and he always answered that she looked like a dream. This often brought an accusing protest from Brenda.

You always say that.

It’s always true, was the standard reply. And it was always true. Aidan thought Brenda was beautiful in everything.

Tonight she chose a pair of silky black panties that framed her bottom in satiny femininity. She also wore a pretty black bra he had found for her on a trip to the mall one Saturday in spring. He had liked the innocent little bow that perched just between the cups. He smiled lazily as he watched her pull on her pantyhose with a fair amount of tugging. When she put on the pink formal dress, he nearly stopped breathing. She put on her high heels and then studied herself with a critical eye. Satisfied, she turned to her husband.

What do you think? she asked.

You look like a dream, he replied. Then he got up out of the bed and cupped her face in his hands. You are beautiful, he told her. She saw the flicker in his eyes as he leaned down to forcefully kiss her on the lips. Once