Post Number: 1
|Posted on Friday, October 05, 2007 - 07:58 pm: ||
Author's Notes: This is an introductory story about my favorite fantasy couple. Zeggy is loosely based on me, and Izak ("Ike") is my perfect guy. Most of the stories featuring these two will be set in Chicago, but please note that I am not familiar with the city, and while I try to be as accurate as possible, I may make a few mistakes in the setting. If you notice a mistake, please let me know; I will be more than happy to correct it. As this is the first story I've posted, it contains a lot of exposition as I introduce the characters, particularly in the first half. I've tried to weave it into the plot in a way that doesn't make it seem like a character sketch, but if you have suggestions on how to make it better, please let me know that as well. Now on with the story!
Zeggy walked along the seemingly endless rows of shelves, keeping one eye on the book cart she pushed in front of her to ensure it didn't bump the study tables on the other side, and one eye on the small cards placed on the ends of the shelves, which told her which call numbers she could find there. Finding the correct number range, she turned the cart into the narrow aisle and gathered the first five books off it into her arms to begin the shelving process.
Zeggy Goren had been working in the Chicago University library in a work-study position for almost a year now, and considered herself to be proficient in the library sciences. She knew that her supervisor saw her as a quick-learner and diligent worker, always well presented and never tardy, and she took pride in that fact.
Today, she was dressed in chocolate brown slacks and a cream-colored blouse, accented with red leather ballet flats that didn't add any height to her slender, petite frame. Her slightly wavy, long, black hair was drawn into a simple French twist at the back of her head, and held in place with a pair of wooden hair sticks. Zeggy's ears weren't pierced, but she had on her favorite necklace, and the silver labyrinth charm rested just between her small breasts. Her skin color and face clearly showed the Native American heritage of which she was so proud, and her make up was minimal, only slightly accentuating her natural beauty.
Zeggy's cobalt blue eyes scanned the call numbers on the book spines in front of her, looking for the proper place for the first of the books she held. She looked lower and lower, finally bending right over to examine the last books on the bottom shelf. Still, the numbers were too low. She realized the numbers she was looking for must be on the top of the shelf to the right, and straightened to look at them. The top shelf was quite high, so she had to tip her head back and stand on her toes to get a good look, holding the books against her chest.
Suddenly, she felt extremely dizzy and unbalanced, and her vision filled with blackish-brown murkiness. Zeggy inhaled sharply as she felt herself begin to fall, and put out both hands to catch herself on the shelf in front of her, dropping her armload of books in the process with several thuds. Just as suddenly as she had begun to fall, her fall was arrested. Two strong arms caught her around the waist and she was supported by leaning against the hard chest behind her. A voice spoke in her ear.
"Did you take your iron pill today?
"Ike!" Zeggy exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" She turned around, still encircled in his arms, and looked up at her fiance.
She was somewhat surprised to see the frown on his handsome face. Izak Potter, it was widely agreed by many of Chicago's women, was a fine looking man. Until he had proposed to Zeggy the year previously, he had been considered the city's most eligible bachelor. He had what Zeggy privately thought of as a "poet's face," long, classically featured (with the exception of a slightly crooked nose that was the result of a misspent youth) with a serious mouth and light, clear blue eyes which today were accentuated by his blue pinstripe suit. His curly dirty blond hair was worn short without any but the most basic product, and was typically mussed due to his habit of running a hand through it when he was concentrating.
Zeggy noted that his hair was looking particularly rumpled today and wondered if something had gone wrong at the office. She was about to ask him when he repeated his unanswered question.
"Did you take your iron pill today?"
There was an edge of sternness to his voice, and Zeggy felt a jump in the pit of her stomach. She hesitated, thinking back to her hectic morning. "I might've. I don't really remember," she finally answered, avoiding Ike's narrowed gaze.
Ike sighed slightly as he looked down at the woman in his arms. He had fallen in love with his "kitten" within the first week of meeting her two years ago at an uptown restaurant where she was working as a waitress. The fact that she was a college student on a full scholarship at his old alma mater and he was a millionaire CEO seven years her senior never entered into his calculations to make this intelligent and charming woman his wife. He knew some of the press had considered their relationship "robbing the cradle," but he was convinced he had found his soul mate, and knew the difference in their ages would seem slight as they grew older together. Zeggy took a bit longer to convince, but eventually she fell just as much in love with him as he was with her.
That's not to say their relationship wasn't without problems. At the beginning, he remembered almost fondly, they had done nothing but fight. Ike and his half-sister Izabella had founded their own computer chip company, IZ Inc., when they were both twenty. Izabella was the technological brain behind the company's chip designs - Ike freely admitted he had only a passing knowledge of how they worked - but his role was indispensable as the CEO and chairman of the board. Izabella was a quiet, reserved woman, and didn't like having to think about the business aspects of the company. Ike, however, was considered to be something of a business wunderkind (a term he detested) and he quickly earned the respect of employees twice his age. Therefore, he was used to his orders being obeyed immediately and without question. Zeggy was not so obliging, and she proved to have a stubborn streak almost as strong as his own.
For a few weeks, it had even seemed that their constant bickering was going to end the relationship before it had properly begun, but then they quite literally hit upon a solution that satisfied them both. The basic rule was if either Ike or Zeggy was unhappy with some aspect of the other's behavior, they first attempted to solve the problem though talking it out, and then, if they both agreed it was necessary, the offending party would be corporal punished by the other. In Zeggy's case, this meant spankings, with the hand, hairbrush, or, rarely, the belt. Ike always got the belt, and preferred his "sessions" to be called "whippings," a word he considered to be more masculine. Some might have considered this way of solving disputes to be slightly odd or downright weird, but it worked for them.
Now, Ike contemplated a recent talk they had had, concerning Zeggy remembering to take her iron supplements. Her mother had been anemic, and after going to donate blood only to discover that her iron levels were very low, she was diagnosed with it as well. The fact that she followed a vegetarian diet only made the matter worse, so she was prescribed the daily supplement to compensate for it. Zeggy loved to donate blood, so she usually remembered to take her pills for the week or so before a donation appointment, but last week Ike noticed that she had far more pills left than she should have, had she been taking them every day. Upon questioning, she admitted that she frequently forgot to take them. He knew that when Zeggy's iron levels were especially low, she often got light-headed when she stood up too fast, and had fainted on one occasion. He remembered how terrified he had felt that day, walking into the living room to find her crumpled on the floor, and kept that in mind as he grimly considered her answer to his question.
"You 'might've'? If I hadn't been here, you 'might've' fallen and gotten a concussion," he said, his voice very quiet and slightly mocking when he echoed her words. Zeggy knew that the quiet tone he used wasn't in deference to library etiquette. She bit her lip and stared at the pattern in his tie to avoid meeting his eyes . She knew from experience that right now, the eyes that usually looked like a lake on a warm summer day had frozen over. She knew that Ike's cold anger had earned him the nickname "Ice" when he was a teenager. But most certainly, she knew that skipping her pills was a punishable offense.
"I don't remember if I took one, honestly," she said. Already, she imagined she could feel an ice-cold hand cupping her bottom. A chill ran down her spine, causing her subconsciously to stand up straighter.
"Do you remember taking one yesterday?" Ike asked softly.
"I... no," Zeggy said.
"You didn't take one, or you don't remember if you took one?"
"I didn't take one," Zeggy admitted in a very small voice. She still avoided his gaze, and instead fiddled with his tie pin. Ike put a finger under her chin and brought her head up so he could look her in the eye.
"You realize what this means?" he asked, his voice barely audible. Zeggy's breathing was shallow, as though she had just jumped into cold water.
"Yes, sir," she whispered. The "sir" wasn't necessary, it wasn't part of their rules, but it felt natural for her to say it.
"And you agree that you deserve what's coming to you?" Ike asked. This was an important question. The key rule was that both of them had to agree on this. Zeggy only had to answer “no” and she could prevent, or at least delay, her punishment. She thought about the pills, and the fear she had felt moments ago when she began to fall.
"Yes, I deserve it, sir," she said, her quavering voice matching how her insides felt.
Ike glanced at his watch. He had originally come to the library in order to pick her up for a surprise lunch date. Now he wondered if they would have time to eat and complete the spanking before his first meeting of the afternoon. Zeggy's stomach grumbled, interrupting his thoughts. He suddenly had a suspicion and looked at her with newly narrowed eyes. "When did you last eat?"
To Zeggy, each word seemed to tighten the grip the imaginary hand had on her backside. She briefly considered what to say.
"Tell me the truth, kitten," Ike said. Zeggy wondered if he really had ESP or if she really had that bad a poker face.
"Yesterday at dinner," she admitted.
"You didn't have breakfast?"
"I-I was running late, so..."
"So you skipped it," Ike finished. The resignation in his voice made her wince.
"Ye-yes," she stammered.
Ike sighed and looked at his watch again. "Well," he said finally, "we don't have enough for me to give you the spanking you deserve now, and you need to eat something. It'll have to wait until tonight." He released her and began to gather the books she had dropped. Zeggy bent to help him, but he said, "No, I don't want you dizzy again. Go sit down," and pointed to a chair at one of the study tables.
"I have to finish shelving these," she protested, gesturing to the book cart, which held a further seven books.
"I'll take care of it. Sit down," he repeated. Zeggy hesitated, but reasoned that it wasn't exactly the most difficult job, so he could be trusted to do it, and that even if her boss did find her not working, Ike would explain that she'd had a dizzy spell, and besides, Ike was giving her a very icy look as she remained standing there. She went to sit down.
Ten minutes later, the shelving was finished, and Zeggy's shift was over. She walked out into the Chicago sun with Ike's arm around her waist. If it wasn't for the slight tension in that arm, she would have very much enjoyed the feeling of belonging to him it gave her. They walked three blocks in relative silence from the library to a small cafe they had been to a few times before.
When the waitress came to take their orders, Zeggy began to say that she would have the linguine Alfredo, but Ike interrupted and ordered her a soy burger with no cheese on whole wheat bread and a side of spinach salad with plenty of Lima beans, tofu cubes, and raisins. All very iron-rich foods. The waitress looked slightly surprised and glanced at Zeggy as though expecting her to object, but she smiled and said, "That sounds good, honey, thank you." The waitress gave a small shrug, took Ike's order, and left.
Ike looked at her across the table, and the right side of his mouth twitched into a smile. Zeggy smiled back, knowing she was forgiven for now and wouldn't be getting the ice water treatment throughout lunch. They fell into easy conversation about friends, the events of their day, the ongoing wedding plans, and what they would be doing on their weekly Friday date. It was Zeggy's turn to pick the activity.
"The gym is done renovating the climbing wall, I think. That could be fun. Or there's the student film festival at the University," she suggested.
"Well, why don't we keep our options open, and then we can decide on Friday if we want to be athletic or artsy?" Ike said, smiling.
For the duration of the meal, Zeggy forgot the cold hand that had been caressing her backside. However, standing on the sidewalk again, Ike gave her a kiss and apologized for not being able to walk her home; he needed to get back to the office right away. Then he leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, "And I expect you to be ready when I get home later," and the hand came back and brought a few of its buddies, who proceeded to not only cup her behind, but also her to dance up and down her spine, pinch her nipples, and stroke between her legs. Ike patted her bottom once, and began walking away. Zeggy watched him and wondered if she could manage to walk all the way home feeling like she was being fondled the whole time.
She let herself into the spacious loft she and Ike shared ten minutes later, and had the nightstand drawer open to take out a vibrator before her conscious stopped her. Although it wasn't an official rule, it didn't seem right to get pleasure from a punishment spanking. She closed the draw again, reluctantly, and attempted to finish her homework. She had a religious studies paper to work on, and as she was drawn up into her discussion of the myths and rituals that are present in everyday life and usually taken for granted, she gradually was able to put the upcoming ordeal into the back of her mind, although she did wryly note that a spanking was certainly a liminal experience!
After a couple of hours, her paper was done. Zeggy looked at the clock and noted that Ike still wouldn't be back for a few hours. She thought about the spanking she would get then, and her stomach felt as though she had just crested the hill of the world's tallest roller coaster. Involuntarily, she glanced at her dresser. The wooden hairbrush she used each morning rested on top of it. She quickly looked away again and picked up her bag, then walked to the kitchen table and attempted to distract herself with more homework.
Unfortunately, physics wasn't nearly as absorbing as her religion paper. After getting the same obviously wrong answer three times in a row, she sighed and packed her things away again. She put her bag back in the bedroom and glanced at the hairbrush again, unconsciously rubbing her bottom. She wandered back into the living room, sat on the couch, and turned the TV on. One of her favorite sitcoms was playing, but she couldn't pay attention. Her mind was beginning to race with thoughts.
Why didn't I take that pill? I just forgot. He shouldn't punish me for forgetting, I couldn't help it. But I need to remember in the future. I deserve it. It's really going to hurt. Dammit, why did I forget? I hate waiting like this. I wish he did it at lunch, then it'd already be over. No, what I wish is that I took the stupid pills. What if I get the belt? Oh, god, it's going to hurt.
Her mind went around in circles in this theme, and time seemed to be going so slowly. Soon, she was fidgeting and shifting as she sat on the edge of the couch, as though her bottom was already sore. This was the same couch she would be lying face-down on later, over Ike's lap. He didn't like to "contaminate" the bedroom with bad memories. Eventually, she couldn't sit any longer and got up to pace from one end of the loft to the other, the TV now only the background soundtrack to the vivid movie that was playing in her mind of what would happen when Ike arrived.
It was almost a relief when it was finally time for her to get ready. She went into the bedroom and took her necklace off, then pulled the hair sticks out of her French twist so her hair tumbled down past her shoulders. Wincing slightly, she picked up the hairbrush and brushed the kinks out of it, trying not to think about the other use the implement would be put to soon. She unbuttoned her blouse slowly from the bottom to the top, slipped it off, folded it, and set it aside. Then she unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks, allowing gravity to slide them down to the floor, then bent to pick them up, folded them, and put them on top of her blouse. She had already slipped out of the ballet flats earlier, so now she stood in a lacy bra and "hipster" style panties, both pale blue against her dusky skin. She picked up the hairbrush once again and walked to the bathroom where she took a towel from the linen closet. The towel was for Ike to cover his lap with; she had twice before stained his pants with her intimate moisture. She returned to the living room and lay the towel, folded neatly, on the coffee table, with the brush on top of it. Then Zeggy stood in the corner of the living room, where she would be immediately visible to anybody entering the loft, in the proper position: hands interlaced on the back of her head, elbows out, legs far apart, back arched, bottom stuck out. After a few minutes, her arms and shoulders ached but she remained in position, knowing that any moment Ike could walk through the door.
Ten endless minutes later, she heard the door open behind her. Zeggy didn't look, but she knew from the feeling creeping up her spine that Ike stood and regarded her for a few moments, then, from the sound, that he put his keys and briefcase on the table next to the door and slid off his suit jacket. She heard him walk up behind her, and then say quietly, "Put your arms at your sides, and turn around." She obeyed instantly.
Ike's jacket was draped over the back of the arm chair, and he had loosened his tie. She looked timidly at his face, and then quickly away again. "What is about to happen, kitten?" he asked softly.
"Um... I'm going to be spanked," she said, flushing pink from her hairline all the way down to her cleavage.
"Why would I spank you, kitten?" Ike asked in the same soft, icy tone. As he spoke, he slowly stretched out his right arm, took his watch off, and then unbuttoned his cuff and began rolling the sleeve up past his elbow. Zeggy was distracted, watching his hands. Hands were one of the first things she noticed in a man. "Kitten, I believe I asked you a question. You would be wise to answer my questions promptly."
Zeggy jumped and tried to remember what the question was. "Ah...because I didn't take my pill."
"How many times have you forgotten to take you pill?"
"I.. I don't know," Zeggy admitted.
"Go get the pill bottle, then," Ike commanded.
Zeggy turned and went into the bathroom, returning with her prescription bottle. She held it out to Ike, but he didn't take it. Instead, he asked, "What is the date on the bottle?"
Zeggy looked, and replied, "August 23rd."
"That," Ike said, "was forty-two days ago. How many pills were in the bottle when you first got it?"
"Um, fifty," Zeggy said, again checking the bottle's label.
"So there should be only eight pills left in that bottle, if you had taken one every day like you were supposed to, correct?"
"Yes," Zeggy confirmed. Ike took the bottle from her, opened it, and emptied it onto the coffee table. Zeggy winced. There were a lot more than eight pills.
"Count them," Ike commanded softly. Zeggy knew were this was going. She knelt and reluctantly counted each pill aloud as she dropped them back into the bottle while Ike watched.
"...twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one," she finished, sniffing slightly.
"That's twenty-three extra. You barely took half of the pills you were supposed to, didn't you kitten?" Ike asked quietly, taking the bottle back from her and closing it again.
"Yes, sir," Zeggy said, closing her eyes.
"You're going to get one swat with the hairbrush on each cheek for every pill you didn't take. Stand up."
Zeggy tried to stand, but her shaking legs didn't support her. Ike put his hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. He kept his arm around her, supporting her, as he went to the couch and sat down, guiding her to stand in front of him. He tipped her chin up and forced her to meet his eyes.
"I love you, kitten, and I don't want you getting hurt. The doctor prescribed those pills for a reason. Obviously, you need a reminder to take them, right?"
His suddenly kind tone brought tears to her eyes. "I love you, too, Ike, and I know I deserve this."
Ike nodded, satisfied with her answer, then reached past her and picked up the hairbrush and towel. He lay the towel across his pants and tucked the hairbrush into the couch behind him. Then he took Zeggy's hand, gave it a gentle squeeze, and guided her across his lap.
Zeggy shifted until she was as comfortable as possible, using her elbows to prop her torso up. “I think these need to go right now,” Ike said, sliding a finger under the waistband of her panties. Zeggy took a deep breath and lifted her pelvis obediently, then felt a coolness on her bottom as the cloth was slid down to her knees. She had just settled her hips down onto the towel again when the first hard hand-spank landed full on her left cheek. Punishment spankings didn't include a warm-up, but still Zeggy was surprised by the force and could only gasp in shock. The second hit before she had recovered, low on the right cheek. When the third sharp spank landed a second later on the crease were her left cheek met her thigh, she finally got the breath to cry out.
"Ow-w-w!" she half-sobbed, squirming in his lap. Ike restricted her movements, holding her around the waist with his left arm, his elbow resting between her shoulder blades to prevent her head from popping up. The spanking began in earnest.
He varied where the spanks landed and his timing, not letting her predict or anticipate anything. Soon, Zeggy's yelps and cries merged into one long yell, and her bottom was wriggling all over the place, her toes drumming against the couch cushions as she kicked. Her twin mounds of soft flesh were rapidly turning pink and hot to the touch. Ike stopped for a moment and rubbed her bottom so it wouldn't become numb, and her cries quieted somewhat. He used the pause to lecture her softly, reminding her what she was being punished for, and that he was doing this because he loved her and she needed to remember her pills. Zeggy began sobbing in earnest before he had even begun the spanks again, promising to be good.
Ike tightened his hold in preparation for resuming the spanking, and she, sensing this, sobbed "Noooo...." Ike ignored this. The second half of the hand-spanking was faster and harder, and he truly had a hard time holding her squirming body over his lap. Finally, he stopped and said quietly, "Kitten, you deserve this. Hold still and take it."
Zeggy begged him to stop and sobbed more loudly than ever, but she managed not to wiggle so much for the last four extra-hard smacks to her sit-spots. Ike paused again and looked down at her now deep pink bottom. He reached behind him and pulled out the hairbrush, resting the cool wood lightly on her hot bottom. "We're almost done, kitten. Remember to hold still, or this will take a lot longer than it has to."
The first crack of the brush high on her right cheek again stunned Zeggy into silence. She always managed to forget just how much it hurt. The second followed after a moment, in the same spot on her left cheek, and she gasped. Ike worked down and up her bottom, alternating cheeks and hitting about once a second with the thick wooden brush until he had delivered eighteen of the promised twenty-three. By the time he was done, she was no longer pleading and promising wildly to be good, but instead lay still, with the exception of her still-kicking feet, crying quietly into the couch cushion.
"Zeggy, I want you to ask for each of these last five. You can take as long as you like," Ike said, rubbing the brush in circles against her bright red bottom.
He waited patiently for about a minute until Zeggy gathered her courage enough to lift her head and ask, "May I have one, please, sir?" Then he landed the two extra-hard strokes in rapid succession, one on each sit-spot. Zeggy half-screamed. She knew that every last stroke would land in exactly the same spot. It was Ike's way of making sure she remembered her punishment each time she sat down for at least a week. That knowledge only made it more hard for her to finally gasp, "May I have another, please, sir?" between sobs. Sure enough, the two blows again cut into her tender sit-spots. She yelped and jumped, and Ike again reminded her to remain as still as possible.
It took a full five minutes for her to ask for, and receive, the remaining strokes. When it was done, Ike allowed her to lay across his lap for a few more minutes until her sobs had quieted somewhat. Then he tenderly turned her over and helped her sit up. She squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position for her sore bottom, to no avail. Ike had done his job well. Now, he held and cuddled her, whispering comforting things in her ear and stroking her back as she buried her face in his shoulder.
When she was only sniffling, he helped her to her feet and back into her panties. She winced as the lacy material brushed against her tender flesh. Ike stood up and hugged her, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
"Are you hungry?" he asked quietly, but in a much different tone of voice then the one he had used before.
"Yes," said Zeggy.
"C'mon, I'll make dinner," he said, and with his arm around her waist, they went into the kitchen. Zeggy sat down gingerly at the table, grateful that the chairs had cushions, and Ike began taking out ingredients. They chatted more about the date Friday night and the wedding plans as Zeggy watched him cook. Twenty minutes later, he set a plate and glass in front of her. She got up and walked out of the kitchen. "Where are you going?" Ike called after her. Zeggy didn't reply, but came back with her supplement bottle in her hand. She opened it and washed a pill down with a sip of her drink, then smiled at Ike. He smiled back.
Author's Notes (again): If you don't understand the religion paper thing, just ignore it. I only added it in because I finished my religion paper just before writing this. Spanking is a liminal experience, though. Also, I added in Ike's whippings because I think that's more fair than straight-forward DD. I probably won't write any of them unless the switch fairy and my muse happen to visit at the same time. ;-)
In other news, has anyone seen the previews for Dr. Steve-O? I'm pretty sure a guy's getting strapped.
And now, I'm off to watch the season premiere of Law & Order: Criminal Intent!!
(Message edited by bethie on October 05, 2007)
Post Number: 1710
|Posted on Friday, October 05, 2007 - 09:52 pm: ||
Thank you for contributing!
As an aside, I noticed your story had some word processing artifacts (there were some strange characters in place of punctuation marks) from where you copied and pasted it so I did some editing to fix those. Nothing else; I didn't do any content editing. Just so you know!
Post Number: 2
|Posted on Friday, October 05, 2007 - 10:47 pm: ||
Whoops. Next time, I'll proof-read more carefully. Thanks.
Post Number: 28
|Posted on Friday, October 05, 2007 - 11:03 pm: ||
I loved it. I am a big fan of the older man younge rwomen theme.
Post Number: 566
|Posted on Saturday, October 06, 2007 - 01:47 am: ||
Great story Gorensgirl! YOu said this was just an introduction? I can't wait for the next one....
Post Number: 3
|Posted on Saturday, October 06, 2007 - 12:17 pm: ||
Thanks for the compliments! Yes, I'm working on the next story now. It's going to have more of a roleplay slant to it; no punishment.