Break time….
Sunday, January 28th, 2007
Chapter 1; Summer Break begins
Sheila walked in the house, her mind still consumed by the events of the last four hours. The last 40 minutes in particular had left her spitting nails into thin air and lecturing the warm empty car seats that were once occupied by a pair of selfish snotty little boys. Her skin buzzed with a mix of anger, frustration, fatigue and helplessness. She didn’t expect to find her home occupied when she pushed open the laundry room door with a firm bump of her hip, and truth be told, had counted on some empty space to vent some pent up steam in for a while. “What’s with you banging in here like that?” his obtuse question inflamed her rawest nerve.
‘How did he do that?’ she growled under her breath picking up the beach bag full of towels and sundry toys she’d lugged in from the car and dropping them in the basket beside the washing machine. ‘How does he always manage to ask the most obtuse useless questions right when all I can do it bite his head off?’ She didn’t answer. She knew that wasn’t the wisest way to handle things, but her temper was up, and damn it she’d earned and really deserved the private moments she sought to indulge it. Eamon didn’t see it that way, though granted he was oblivious to what had worked to help put her in the mood she was in and didn’t have a clue that his unexpected presence in the private space she sought so frantically was just another irritant.
“Hey?” he shared his confusion and irritation at being ignored and dismissed when Sheila pushed past his hulking frame where he hovered in her way in the kitchen. “Don’t! Just don’t!” she growled, holding her hand up while she shook her head warning him off.
She saw in his expression that Eamon didn’t like her behavior and tone. She also sensed that he wasn’t going to be receptive to having her take out frustrations he had nothing to do with on him. “I’m at my whit’s end right now honey, please, just leave me alone.” “Where are the kids?” Eamon realized and smiled.
“Kidnapped by aliens I hope,” she hissed, tears and fear burned the corner of her eyes. She left that statement hanging and made her way back into her bedroom where she could wash her face, change and cry. “I’m a terrible mother….”
*********** The morning got off to a sweet start, with Eamon pressing his cock up inside her, gripping the still tender butt cheeks he’d spanked hard ‘just because’ the night before, thrusting into, kissing and owning her, making her come three times before filling her with his climax. After he left to work letting her linger and properly come awake into a day that belonged to the first week of summer vacation with two boys, seven and nine, Sheila masturbated coating her pussy with the essence of her husband that oozed from her. She was able to steal a precious languid half hour before noises from other parts of the house slowly forced her up and into the shower.
Bliss quickly gave way to the bickering of a pair of listless boys whose new onset freedom and the overwhelming novelty of whole days to fill, had temporarily suspended their ability to self regulate. In their minds, all of a sudden they had nothing to do but pick at each other. Yesterday was about to start all over and yesterday had been hell on earth. Sheila knew without question that she was never going to match the staying power and stubborn will of one, never mind two grounded boys whose raw energy had already escalated to blows as a preferred out let. They needed to get out and into some prolonged vigorous activity or they were going to drive her insane. Having come off nine month of night shift into barely a few days of living in the day, she was going to have to dig for the energy that providing that for them was going to entail. She kept her sights on Cub Camp, Wrestling Camp, swimming lessons, Art Camp, Day Camp, Family Vacation and the Dad’s week. Summers always had this pattern. Intellectually she knew it. Why Mom’s week was always two weeks, and why it was always first was a deal she thought could do with negotiating now that she was working nights and the kids were getting bigger.
Yesterday she knew she was in it now, and this morning she knew that life with her kids would not be improved by grounding them to their rooms for another glorious summer day. It wasn’t their fault that she was exhausted. It wasn’t their fault that a full year of full days had suddenly left them in a vacuum they were ill prepared to cope with. Up till now they’d had space to play in and friends their ages to play with. This year had introduced unexpected changes into their lives; three families of ‘best friends’ had picked up and moved away. They would have too, but with career changes in the works for Dad, the money just wasn’t there. So now Todd and Christopher had no local playmates even close to their own age, and highway and shopping mall construction had taken over and ruined the huge multi-acre wilderness that had for years been a huge landscape for childish adventure. Ground hog Paradise was bulldozed. Granite tower, a literal Stonehenge epitomizing super power for 7, 8 and 9 year olds had been pulverized. Boulder city was no more. All winter the awe and novelty of watching heavy equipment lay waste and destroy their playground never quite registered. It had been cool while it happened. Especially while they could watch from their huge dining room window. Now that it was fenced forbidden territory anger and rebellion replaced awe, the loss was real. Mom took the brunt when after the first weekend and then Monday with no school didn’t come through with all the wished for possibilities of freedom.
Boredom set in, and along with it came restless energy. Pleas for cooperation, suggestions for diversion worked for a day or so, and then not even threats worked. Finally, yesterday afternoon, at the end of her tolerance, Mom invoked punishment and two very aggressive little boys went to bed at 2 PM and stayed there. Dad didn’t question, instead he visited his boys in their respective cells, reinforced the sentence and reinforced that he expected to see better behavior in the days to come. Mom and Dad had super alone while their kids ate sandwiches and milk alone in their rooms, no TV, no radio, no games … books if they wanted to read, but no talking, no freedom no contact. Later when they cuddled on the sofa, when Sheila let tears trickle down her face during the news, Eamon squeezed her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m no good,” she sobbed.
“No good at what?” Eamon was oblivious, but engaged.
“I’m a rotten mother. I just yell at them, make them mad and give up.”There was silence.
“Tell me baby,” Eamon finally squeezed his wife’s shoulder then pulled his torso up so he could see into her eyes.
“I did everything they wanted Eamon. We hiked the creek and used the nets to catch pollywogs hold them see if they had leg bud yet and let them go, hell I even kissed one and named it Todd junior. Then Christopher pushed Todd in the water calling him a wuss. I helped them laugh it off asnd apologize, then I walked in a handstand because they begged me to all the way down the path from the Harris’s to home and offered a dollar to both if they could help each other make their personal best. 2 steps, 5 steps, 2 feet or 10 feet, personal best was the goal. All that did was make Todd upset because Chris could get more than 10 steps for his weak try at three. He’s only seven Eamon! Nobody expects more and we don’t push him like that either! Even when I stepped in and I held both of them up so they both made it further than the best in the family they ended up brawling. I made their favorite lunch and they screamed at each other about who like it first and whose real favorite it was, then Christ threw his lunch at Todd and told me to eat it myself. I screamed at them honey. I gave up and put them to bed and told them they were monsters.” Sheila let here tears escape into a flood.
Eamon suppressed a chuckle and just held his wife. Hearing the whole story of the day, he was tempted to add to the consequences she’d imposed on their boys, but resisted. Raw energy and pride had a tendency to fuel aggression. They were good kids and he suspected that they’d been given a fair message that they deserved the chance to heed before escalation of consequences was imposed. He did have a sense that not just their raw needy energy was playing a role in the mix, so he lifted his wife off the sofa an hour before their usual bedtime, and tugged her to bed. He gave her a gentle bath and then climbed in with her encouraging her every stroke and ministration before lifting her out of the tub and taking her over his lap. He spanked her slowly but firmly at first, then harder and more vigorously until he felt her come. Then he took her for his own release and they fell asleep.
*****
He needed to reinforce things in the morning. She embraced and reveled with him in what felt like perfect closure, and now, here he was after a hard day at work dealing with a wife even more out of sorts and no answers about where their kids were.
“Sheila?” Eamon came up behind her in the bathroom as she scrubbed flooding tears off her face with cold water and a half dry face cloth.
“Please leave me alone,” she hiccupped into the rough white fabric.
“Sheila!” he wasn’t going to leave it at that.
“Fuck off Eamon! They’re getting exercise! Exercise they NEED! Just leave me alone please!” Sheila stood up and turned around to glare into her looming husband’s eyes. Eamon couldn’t help the twinkle that shone in the corners of his eyes, and even though she saw it, Sheila couldn’t help but burst into tears.
“I threw them out of the car OK. They were bickering, they bickered all day even about who could swing first, every other minute they were punching each other, pulling arm hairs, twisting arms, giving Indian sunburns, screaming, cursing. I bought three favorite lunches. All of a sudden, now that our usual choices are paid for, Todd wants Dad’s favorite lunch and he’s never liked his, and now that it’s paid for, even after I asked what everyone wanted up front, even though Chris wanted onion rings instead of curly fries. They threw all of their lunch at each other. They opened and squirted ketchup everywhere! Go look at the car! I’m not cleaning it up. I’m just not! When they wouldn’t stop, I stopped the car and warned them that they made promises to both of us last night, and I promised them promises will be kept all around. When they both told me to shut up, I told them to get out of the car. I told them to walk home if they thought they still deserved a home and dared to face the consequences.” Sheila’s sobs intensified. “They’re going to run away now. They know they’re in for it if they come home. I’ve ruined my kids and I’ve thrown them away!” She cried inconsolably for close to an hour. Eamon swatted her ass more than once when she blubbered and let her fears stray into useless and extreme wallows of fear. He knew she was exhausted, he also knew his kids, spirited and rambunctious though they could be loved their mother.
Then shortly after 4 PM the back door squeaked on its hinges. A pair of dusty exhausted boys tried to sneak into their home unnoticed. Sheila’s tears disappeared, and though a relieved smile owned her soul and betrayed deep gratitude to her husband’s lips in a deep almost lost kiss, firm resolve ruled. They’d been walking for two and a half hours in 89 degree heat. The full water bottles she’d thrown with them out on the shoulder were just about empty. When her boys started their day bickering, Sheila searched her soul for a diversion they all could enjoy. The beach! For a hopeful 6 hours it seemed to be the ticket. Her happy clan worked in tandem gathering suits, towels lotion and even helping choose juices and snacks. The drive out was fun. Songs, jokes, ‘did you know that,’ chatter ruled and was amicable. Even the first three hours of beach time were fun and peaceful. It was gearing up to come home that started things going down hill, and the 20 mile drive home that pushed tempers to the nadir. Less than 6 miles from home Sheila gave in. Her kids knew the way home, the roads were rural but safe, she needed head space, they needed a firm lesson and she wasn’t up for dragging them home for a whipping she just couldn’t give them.
A day that started out well went sour. It wouldn’t be the first yuk day out of a life time of mostly great days all tolled, but it was one. Eamon dealt with his boys. They had no way to know that their mother stood with her panties at half mast in the corner sobbing, grateful that her kids had come home, after being afraid that she’d lost them and had failed as a parent with them. When Dad got through with them, their backsides were scalded, and then their bellies and ears and hearts were filled up. They went to bed early again only this time they woke up with respect for their lot and without out vengeance.
Eamon also spanked his wife very hard and very firmly before he let her go to bed that night. Not for the way she’d handled her boys. He thought she’d done an exemplary job with them and it was his follow up and support of her authority that fell short. He spanked her hard because she’d shown so much fear of her role, so much insecurity of her choices and so little faith in him to support her. She stood in the corner, her body and bottom bare, just her panties at her knees for an hour. It was a quiet wait, so many worries kept her company. Then he came to bed and called her to him.
“I love you!” he whispered.
“Why?” she sobbed.
“Because you’re you. Come here!” he scolded.
“I’m not your child Eamon!” she objected.
“Nope you sure aren’t,” he agreed.
“But you treat me like one,” she held back.
“I do not! I love your strength I love you in every way and I love your submission. You need this,” he opened his arms to his wife, and she melted into him. Giving her soul up to every torment that she couldn’t answer to was giving her bare backside to his hand. Pain was secondary release primary to her soul.
Spank me, spank me, spank me, spank me………………….
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