La Cucina

Janie had been a cheeky brat of late. Everything that she was supposed to do for Mike was done, but in such a way that the arguments between them were horrendous. In their home, she did the cooking, dishes, washed the clothes, kept the house clean and tidy and in return; he provided for her and pampered her – beauticians one week, hairdressers another or a night out at a fancy restaurant, new clothes and jewelry. Oh, and then there were the spankings!

When Janie and Mike had first met, she was meek and unable to stand-up for what she wanted; as a result, all her adult relationships had ended because she could not ask for the one thing she truly desired – a strong hand to guide her. She still did all the other things listed above, but there was nothing in it for her. Therefore, she would be petulant and cheeky like a child – pushing her partner’s boundaries until they left saying she was ‘high maintenance’! It was not that she wanted them to be violent with her, it was just that she orgasmed best with a good sound spanking. Then Mike had come along, well in fact they had met online – one good thing about that was that she could state upfront what she wanted and attract the ‘right’ kind of person. The whole BDSM thing was not her scene; she knew that all she wanted was a good spanking on a daily basis – was that too much to ask?

Janie arrived at the bar that they had arranged to meet at, out in public, all safe and sane. She even had her friend Mandy call her after thirty minutes to check if she was ok. They sat down and Mike looked her over with intense eyes that seemed to be unwavering in cutting through to her soul. They did the usual ‘getting-to-know-you’ chitchat and then Mandy called,
“Excuse me Mike but I must take this, it’s my baby sitter” Janie lied to him.

“Of course, I understand. Would you like another drink? I’ll give you two some space to talk about me,” he stood up, winking.

“Oh, um, yes please that would be great,” she stumbled …how did he know?

Janie took the call and ended it quickly, watching Mike at the bar and feeling a little uncomfortable… had she shown too much in her profile? He seemed to read her so well!

He sat down with the drinks,
“So is there some made up emergency that you need to leave for?” Again, that smile and wink as though the joke was on her.

“No, I’m good to stay for another drink.” She replied, head down trying to hide the blush creeping over her face.

“And then what?”
The simple question jerked her head up – what did he expect?

“Well I don’t know – what did you have in mind?” better to let him lead.

“You see that corridor over there – it leads to the bathrooms,” He leaned in close whispering to her, while stroking the back of her hand. “I want you to go to the ladies room and stand in front of the mirror,” he let his finger trail up her forearm; “pull your skirt up and your panties down and bend over so that you are nose to nose with yourself in the mirror,” his finger hypnotized her as it trailed up the side of her neck and into the hair at the nape; “then … I want you to wait for me.”

Janie sighed and lifted her head,
“Okay,” She stood, forgetting the drink, and walked in a daze to the Ladies’ bathroom.

That was eight months ago and that first spanking – with the added bonus of maybe being caught - had fueled such excitement in them. Since then, Janie had moved in with him. Of course she had no children but Mike had worked that one out from the beginning; “the babysitter” was a rouse in case she needed an out. The days went by splendidly and they turned into weeks, each time she would get a sound spanking from him for her troubles; troubles that seemed to disappear after the resounding echo of the spanking was gone, only the heat on her bottom remained.

In the past week, Mike had been caught up with one thing or another at work – and his mind was only on that – Janie had tried everything to get the spanking she, now, deserved. Mike was and always would be King and commander in their lives – but Janie had taken it upon herself to challenge that. He required a cup of tea after dinner every night; this one night, she looked at him as he said, “Tea?” as he always did – meaning ‘get me a cup of tea’. She replied, “Love one, you making?” it was the straw that broke the camels back and Mike stood up from his recliner chair, took her wrist firmly in his grasp and dragged her into the kitchen. Her steps were two to his one long stride … oh dear, what have I done! Fear began to spread through her, had she taken it a little too far.
“Get in there and make me a tea – and no you cannot have one for yourself – at least not yet.” His voice was low and menacing.

“Yes dear” the cheekiness of that response resonated in the kitchen as the kettle began to rumble. He stood behind her, pressing her belly onto the bench, his hardness butting into her soft bottom cheeks. Her hands moved automatically, she leaned forward, taking the tea out of the canister on the deep bench, her bottom pressing further into his crotch. Swiftly he stepped back,

“You enjoy teasing my cock don’t you? That soft round bottom of yours, snuggling into my crotch,” His hands were kneading her cheeks now and she found it difficult to concentrate; the task was to make tea she reminded herself. She did not reply to his question as she was too focused; his hands seemed to knead deeper and deeper into her flesh, pinching slightly as he took handfuls of her ample bum in his strong fist.

“You do enjoy teasing me; and don’t think I haven’t noticed your behaviour of late. You have been very cheeky, my little brat!” SMACK! The first swat on her bottom came on the word ‘brat’. She was just about to lift the kettle, but decided against it.

“You seem to have stopped what you were doing, I want my tea brat!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

“But I ….”

“But what? Afraid I will smack you again while you have the kettle in your hand. Come on, give me credit!! You have done nothing but question my authority in this house for the past week – you need to learn who is boss again. Now make the tea!” his voice was not loud, but the underlying meaning was clear – do not question him again. His hands remained on her bottom, patting, kneading and gently smoothing the material of her skirt.

“Yes Mike, I will make your tea; tonight and every night,” she stated as she lifted the kettle and poured the water over the tea bag. She stirred it as he stirred something in her that had been dormant for too long. Removing the tea bag and placing it in the bench top bin, she lifted the cup to hand him. He had her pinned to the bench, and simply said,

“Put it down.” She did as he instructed.

“Make sure it’s out of the way but do not move from the spot you are standing on.” She put the tea to one side. The long island bench stretched out empty before her, the kettle off to one side, tea sitting beside it.

“Stretch forward brat, now you will know what a good hard spanking is all about!” He lifted her skirt and tucked it in the band so that it would not fall. Tucking his fingers on the sides of her panties, he yanked them down to her ankles. As she lay her body down on the stone bench, the cool hit her breasts through her thin shirt. She bent her elbows under her to lift them off,
“No, arms straight and hands gripping the other side; I want you to hold that position. If you move there will be consequences.”

The first time she had seen Mikes place Janie had looked at the kitchen bench and had evil wicked thoughts about being bent over it and being spanked. In the past few months since she moved in, he had taken her over his knee, in the lounge room, in the bedroom, bathroom and even the patio, but the kitchen had been off limits. She always wondered why that was.

“Do you know why I have not taken you in-hand in the kitchen?” It seemed like he was reading her thoughts again.

“No Mike”

“Well this is your domain and I didn’t want to see you disrespected in it. However, seeing as you have disrespected me, I feel it is only fair to spank you on the very bench that you prepare meals for me on, fair enough?” His explanation seemed to make sense, but if she agreed, she knew that this would be no ordinary spanking.

“Yes Mike,” she knew that she would just have to take what ever he dished out … after all, isn’t that what I’d pushed for? He leaned over and opened the drawer next to her, pulling out a long flat solid wood spatula.

“This is what my Nonna used for spaghetti sauces; I’ve always wondered what it would sound like on human flesh,” he was kneading her right cheek with his left hand, pinching the flesh and making it very warm.

She sunk deeper and deeper into a hypnotic state as he played with the flesh on her cheeks. Calmly she stayed put as he had instructed. The spatula was laid on the bench next to her so she could see it. Pat, pat, pat … the rhythm of his hand on her bottom started slowly and brought her to a deeper hypnotic state. Pat, Pat, PAT, Pat, Pat, PAT, pat, pat, PAT …. Each third one seemed to come down harder on her right cheek, continuing until she could take no more… the third stroke got harder and harder until all of them seemed to be the same … SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! She could take no more and her knees began to jiggle, making her bum wobble in the process.

His hand lay on the small of her back pushing her ass up to meet his hand as he punctuated every word. “I SMACK! …told SMACK! ...you SMACK! …to SMACK! …stay SMACK! …put SMACK! …and SMACK! …not SMACK! …MOVE! SMACK!” She began to whimper her right cheek now blazing red-hot. It was not long until the same rhythm started on the left cheek … Pat, Pat, PAT, Pat, Pat, PAT, pat, pat, PAT!; each third one getting stronger – only this time it did not take as much to make her knees jiggle. Janie knew what was coming … Smack! Smack! SMACK! SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

By the time Mike had warmed up, both cheeks were red hot and blazing. He wanted so much to use the spatula,
“Brat, what are you going to do next time I say ‘tea?’”

“Go and make one?” her voice broke slightly as she held back the tears welling inside her.

“Of course you won’t! But then if I do this you might remember who the boss is!” He picked up the spatula and Janie stiffened on the bench. His hand immediately shot to the nape of her neck and twisted her long hair in his fist. Her bottom stuck up as her belly pushed into the now warm bench. She tried to pull against him – but like a bridled horse, there was no escape. His grip was too tight and she knew that to fight it would only mean more swats. The first one came down on her right cheek, SLAP!; she caught her breath – it stung so much, not like his hand at all!

The next one came down on the same cheek SLAP! And the next SLAP! And the next SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!SWAT! SWAT! SWAT! Janie shifted weight from leg to leg, his hand still holding her tightly in place, her cries muffled by her gritted teeth. Mike lay the tool down and Janie relaxed a little, his hand smoothed over the now-very-welted skin,
“Hmmm interesting … I think I have seen this before somewhere?” He seemed to be in a world of his own now – the discipline was secondary to his memories … Memories of his Nonna cooking with the spatula. Nonno coming in from the smoke house to find her stirring one of her famous Napoli sauces… smells of his youth flooded him, as he ran his fingers over the familiar welts… He was hiding in amongst the grapes, Nonno hadn’t seen him as he walked right under him … the glass doors provided a perfect view, as Nonno took Nonna and bent her over the kitchen bench ….

Janie knew not to move, even though he had stopped, he was not finished. Mike picked up the spatula again and pushed her down on the bench hard. The swatting started furiously, SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! She jiggled, and shifted weight from leg to leg, her cries now loud yelps of pain, coming from deep with in her … He continued swatting SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! “Do you want more, I know you do …” it was as though she had no say in the conversation that he was having … “here it is the big spatula just for my little brat!” Memories of his Nonno, spanking his Nonna on the kitchen bench mixed with what he was doing as he brought Janie to the peak, SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Janie yelled out a final guttural moaning cry that echoed through the kitchen, the cry of a woman released from pain,
“Oh, Oh, OH, OH, OH …MY …FUCK …OHHHHH! AHHHHHHH!!!!” she collapsed onto the floor and Mike placed the spatula back on the bench, scooping her up in his arms and holding her like a baby, he sat on the nearest chair and cradled her, gently placing her very raw bottom on his lap as she cried, and cried and cried…

It seemed the spatula had had a long and illustrious tradition with in his family – and the kitchen, well that was the perfect setting for a good hard spanking!