As our relationship with David and Kiri deepened, Gemma and I became even closer, if that was possible. I was enthralled with Gemma; appreciating her as a person in her own right for the first time, seeing the woman within start to emerge from the little girl I thought I knew like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. In David and Kiri we found, not soulmates exactly as Marion and the girls occupied pride of place, but people with whom I could relate on a level I hadn't known since I was young. It was a novel sensation. As an adult you get used to dealing with all sorts of people, with some of whom you have some things in common. But you rarely find that deep level of friendship that you have as a young man.
As a result I didn't notice the changes in Marion. She withdrew from me, both emotionally and physically. We talked less and began to argue, something we had never done before. In part I was feeling a new sense of well-being and confidence so I was less prepared to put up with what I considered petty issues but in part I was so caught up in myself that I did not appreciate that Marion was feeling excluded.
She started to nag me about household chores, being less sympathetic when I had to work late, complaining about Gemma's and Connie's behaviour. It all came to a head when she announced that she would be going out on Thursday.
"But, Marion, that's our club night," I protested.
"You can miss it for once, can't you?"
"Why should we? It's a regular thing."
"Then it won't hurt not to go. It'll still be there next week."
"That's not the point."
"What is the point?"
I sighed. "The point is that I don't make arrangements on Wednesdays because that's your evening class. And I don't make arrangements on Mondays because that's Connie's gymnastics night. If something needs to be done on these nights, I ask you first and we come to some sort of arrangement. I don't just announce I'm doing something and so there."
"Oh? And what about all these times you phone up and announce you're working late? What about them? I'm expected to drop everything and work round that."
"Marion, you know I can't help that. I'm sorry. I know it's a pain, but it's my job. We discussed all this before I took it on."
"So it's all right for you to expect me to drop everything when you want but not the reverse. Is that it?"
"Marion," I said warningly. She really was being most unreasonable.
"And all because of this silly club you and Gemma sneak off to on Thursdays. Like a couple of schoolkids you are, the pair of you. I really don't know what's come over you these days." Her voice was rising.
"Marion," I said again more firmly.
"And while we're on the subject, I don't think your relationship with Gemma is healthy." I was stunned. There was enough resonance to be upsetting. "It's not right for a father to be so close to his daughter. You two are almost like a pair of lovers rather than father than daughter."
That was a low blow and close enough to the truth to hurt. I was beginning to get angry. "Marion," I said loudly. "That's quite enough."
"No, it's not quite enough at all. It's not nearly enough." Her hands were clenched and her face red. She had worked herself into a fair old fury.
"I think you should stop right now before you say something we both might regret."
"Or you'll do what? Spank me like a naughty little girl?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Who do you think you are, Gerry?"
Suddenly I was icy calm, beneath the trembling, that is. She was behaving exactly like one of the girls in a tantrum. A spanking was precisely what she needed.
"I'm you husband," I said as I grabbed her wrist and pulled.
Taken by surprise, she stumbled forwards. I caught her and pulled her over my knee. The breath whooshed as she fell across my lap. Before she had a chance to realise what I was about to do I had one hand pinned up her back.
"Spank you? Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do. If you behave like a naughty little girl, you'll get treated like one."
"Let me go. How dare you. You wouldn't…"
She was struggling on my lap, trying to get up. My hand came sharply down on her round bottom.
"Oww…" she screeched. "That hurt."
"It was meant to," I said calmly.
I laid on a few more hearty slaps, watching her cheeks wobble under her tight jeans.
"You b…. Let me up, Gerry. Ouch. This is beyond a joke. Ow. That's sore. Aiee. It's not funny. Stop it at once."
I would have preferred to have taken her jeans off and spanked her bare bottom but knew I couldn't risk letting her go. I continued to rain blows down on her.
"Shit. Ow. This is not funny. Ouch. What are you… oh …playing at? Aiee. Let me go. Ouch. Oh. Gerry, please stop. It's sore. It really hurts. Gerry, please."
She stopped struggling and started to cry. My heart went out to her. Never, in the seventeen years we had been married, had I even hinted at violence towards her but here I was spanking the living daylights out of her bottom. But, just as with Gemma's first, I knew I couldn't stop. I had to keep going until I knew that she knew that this was for real; that I was in control and I wasn't going to accept her behaviour. She lay quiescent as I spanked on at a measured pace, alternating cheeks. The pace was important, too; too fast and it could be mistaken for anger, too slow and the effectiveness was reduced.
"You can stop, now," she said in a small voice, between sobs.
She was right. Her voice contained surrender and that was the signal I'd been waiting for. I was relieved, not just because of the pain I was inflicting but because my hand felt almost as sore as her bottom must. I helped her to stand. She stood with her head bowed, sniffling, the tears streaming down her cheeks, her hands rubbing her bottom.
"Why did you do that?" she asked, her voice a surprised whisper.
I tilted her chin and wiped away the tears with one finger. "Because I love you," I said gently.
I gathered her in my arms and let her sob against my chest. Her hands left her stinging bottom and crept around my waist. I was aware of my hard cock pressing against her stomach and her nipples swelling and hardening. Her grip tightened and she looked up at me with a look of surprise.
"My God," she whispered.
I bent and scooped her up. She wasn't as light as she was when I married her but somehow I managed to stagger upstairs with her cradled in my arms. Having her giggle and clutch at my neck every time I stumbled on the stairs didn't help. Then we were tearing our clothes off with an urgency we hadn't felt in many years. She was first and launched herself backwards onto the bed. She cried out as her sore bottom hit the covers but, when I clambered up beside her, she spread her knees wide and grabbed my cock, pulling me to her. I practically fell into her, making her cry out again as my weight pushed her down.
Then we were fucking. There's no other word for it. We didn't make love or have sex. We fucked. I pounded into her, sparing her not at all. She met each thrust eagerly, curling her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck and pulling me hard against her, urging me on. She moaned and cried and panted and I was no better. It couldn't last and it didn't. It didn't need to. I felt her stiffen slightly, a sign, I knew, that meant she was about to cum. My balls contracted and I was spewing my cum into her at the same time as her legs locked around my waist and held me tight.
Spent, we relaxed, or collapsed more like it, panting and blowing. I felt her hands push at me and rolled off. She turned onto her side, wincing, as the pain from her abused bottom suddenly hit her. She curled up into a foetal position and immediately fell asleep.
I didn't sleep. The reality of what I had just done came crashing home. How would she feel when she woke up? Would she hate me or not? Would we still have a marriage in the morning? Whatever, there was no going back. The deed had been done and only time would tell which way the die would fall.
I heard noises outside and realised, with a start, that it was Connnie returning from visiting her friends. I scrambled into my clothes and managed to pull the bedspread out from under Marion and cover her before stumbling downstairs to greet Connie and thank her friend's mother for having her.
I was tidying the living room, having got Connie to bed, when Gemma came in. She had been hanging out with some friends, ostensibly doing homework but I suspected not much was achieved. She had made a new set of friends since that fateful day and seemed much more relaxed with them.
"Where's Mum?" she asked.
"Asleep. She was tired."
She looked at me shrewdly. "What's going on?"
In the past I'd have tried to hide it from her but now I simply said, "I spanked her."
Her eyes flew wide. "You never."
I nodded. "We had an argument and I felt she was being unreasonable so…" I shrugged.
"So you spanked her. Just like that. How did she take it?"
"On the bottom," I grinned, unable to resist the opening.
"Dad." The tone as scathing as only a teenager's can be. "You know what I meant."
"Sorry. I don't know. She wasn't too happy but afterwards she was quite, er, passionate. I don't know how she'll feel when she wakes up."
"So you guys…" She blushed slightly.
"Like rabbits," I laughed.
She put a hand on my arm. "Don't worry, Dad. It'll be okay."
"I wish I could be sure."
"Trust me." She grinned impishly. "I'm my mother's daughter. I know."
"We'll see."
I slipped quietly into bed, not wanting to disturb Marion and, if truth be told, wanting to avoid what I believed would be the inevitable confrontation. To my surprise I was instantly asleep.
I was alone when I awoke and my heart sank for it probably meant that Marion had gone to sleep with one of the girls meaning I was in her bad books. When I came downstairs, however, she was in the kitchen making breakfast. This was, in itself, unusual for Marion is not an early bird and breakfast is normally a chaotic rush. She was humming quietly to herself and that, too, was unusual. I stood and watched her for a moment. Although she was in her rather ancient dressing gown and hadn't combed her hair, she still looked beautiful to me.
"Good morning, dear," she smiled when she realised I was standing there.
"Marion, I…" I began.
Then she was in my arms. "Hush," she said, putting a finger to my lips. "We'll talk later."
"Are you sore?"
She smiled ruefully. "A bit. Come and have breakfast. I woke early as I slept early and decided breakfast was needed."
"I'll call the girls."
The only person who seemed normal was Connie who chattered away as usual. She didn't seem to find it odd that we were all sitting down to a civilised breakfast. Gemma watched her mum, a small, knowing smile playing around her lips. Me, I kept quiet, hoping this wasn't the calm before the storm.
Work kept me from brooding and it wasn't until I arrived home that the worry returned. As I dumped my briefcase and went to get changed, I met Gemma. She gave me a thumbs-up.
"Don't look so worried, Dad. I told you it'd all be okay?"
"Have you and Mum been talking?" I asked with concern.
"Yes. But it's okay. Really. I've told her a bit about the club. Not all of it but about the spankings."
"Oh, my God. What if she asks about the rest of it? You know, what we do now."
"I don't know. Stay cool and go with the flow."
"But what will she say when she finds out that you… that we've had sex?"
"We haven't had sex with each other."
"But I've been unfaithful. Oh God, what have I done?"
She stepped in close and grasped my lapels. "Dad. You remember when this all started, you promised to listen to me if I listened to you?" I nodded. "Then listen to me now. Stop being a worrywort. Don't wimp out. Be firm but be fair. Listen to Mum and let things come. Promise me."
I took a deep breath. "Okay, Gemma, I promise."
She stood on tiptoe and kissed me lightly on the lips. "Good. See you do. Better get a move-on or you'll be late for supper." And she skipped away, grinning.
I had to grin back. "You little minx. If I'm late it'll be your fault." She turned and stuck her tongue out at me. Nevertheless, I hurried.
Supper was easier than I'd expected. Both Marion and Gemma seemed quite relaxed. As we cleared away the dishes, Marion announced, "I'm not going to my class tonight. I want you girls to do your homework then find something to do. Perhaps, Gemma, you could let Connie watch TV with you in your room. Your Dad and I need to talk and I don't want to be constantly interrupted."
"Can we have juice and crisps and things like a sleepover?" Connie asked.
"Yes, okay," Marion laughed.
"If you guys are still busy later, I'll chase Connie to bed," Gemma offered.
"Thank you, dear."
As she organised the girls, I went and sat on the settee. I heard them clattering upstairs then Marion came through, handed me a glass of wine and curled up beside me. I put my arm around her shoulders and she snuggled in.
"You're a complete bastard, Gerry. You know that," she began without preamble but without any heat.
"Oh? How so this time?" I kept my tone light.
"How long have we been married? Oh, don't answer, I know. You'd have thought, after seventeen years that there'd be no surprises, wouldn't you? You'd have thought that you'd know everything there was to know about a person." She sighed. "Last night, let me tell you, you threw a hell of a surprise." She paused. I said nothing, only pulled her more comfortably into the crook of my arm but she pulled away and looked at me, her eyes searching my face.
"I thought I knew you, Gerry. I was comfortable. You were predictable. You were a nice guy; kind and considerate but you took a back seat. You never lost the rag, rarely raised you voice and you always seemed calm and in control. What happened to you?"
I looked back at her steadily, Gemma's words in my mind. I could see no fear or hatred in her eyes. That, at least, was something. But she did genuinely seem uncertain which, I suppose, was understandable considering I'd sort of pulled the rug out from under her feet.
"I want to say, first, Marion, that I love you. I always have and I always will. I also want to say that I'm the same person I've always been. Nothing's changed in me. I haven't suddenly grown horns or had a personality change or anything like that." I took a deep breath. "Let's go back to Gemma. She was going out of control. I knew she was. I don't know how and I don't know why, I just knew it. You didn't seem to be able to see it and I couldn't talk to Gemma. I realise now that that was partly I was still seeing her as a little girl, but…
"I knew I had to do something. Something drastic to get through to her and, I suppose, shock her into seeing what was happening. You weren't helping so I had to do it on my own." I grinned. "Nothing new there. Then Jack Wilkins told me about Hazel. You know about Hazel?"
She nodded. "Gemma told me. I could hardly believe it. She's such a nice girl."
I nodded. "I didn't believe it at first but it's true. He told me about the Slipper Club, that's what it's called, and how taking Hazel had helped. He took me along to see for myself. Marion, it was incredible. There was this girl and her father. She was a tramp, a slut. She'd been sleeping around with anybody who'd have her, which was everybody. In front of everybody, he spanked her so hard I nearly got up and left.
"Jack was urging me to take Gemma but how could I do that to her? Then somebody said something that hit me like a sledgehammer. They said, 'If you don't do it, you'll regret it the rest of your life'. That struck home. I knew Gemma wasn't as far gone as the girl I'd seen. But I knew if I didn't do something, then, she'd just get worse until she was totally out of control. Anyway," I shrugged, "I did it as you know. And you've seen the results.
"As for last night. I saw you were behaving just the way Gemma had. Okay, I accept the fault was partly mine. Gemma and I have become very close and we have been excluding you. But that didn't excuse the way you were acting. So I just took the same steps with you as I did with her."
She was silent for a long time, snuggling back into my arms. "I suppose I was a bit over the top. I'm sorry. And I suppose it did have the desired effect." She giggled. "It brought me up short and no mistake." Another pause. "Did Gemma's spanking have the same effect as mine did?" she asked in a quiet, hard voice.
"Marion!" I exclaimed. "I hope you're not suggesting I would have sex with my daughter. What kind of a monster do you take me for? Do you want to know what I felt that first time? I felt like a complete shit; a total and utter heel. I'd put my daughter through hell; beaten her; used physical violence against her. I was shattered - physically and emotionally. As for Gemma, she didn't speak to me for several days, you may recall."
"So why did what happened between us not happen between you and Gemma?"
"A number of reasons, I think. Gemma knew she was being punished before we started. She knew what was going to happen and why. I recited a list of her so-called friends and the trouble they'd been in. Also it was very public. And I spanked her a good deal harder than I spanked you. Then there's the relationships. A husband-wife relationship is not the same as father-daughter. There's no sexual element in the latter. Does all that make sense?"
"In a way. But I still don't understand why I got so turned on. I was hurt and humiliated but I got incredibly horny." She blushed.
"I noticed," I grinned. "Actually I did a bit of research. There can be a sexual element to spanking. Apparently some people enjoy being spanked before sex, men as well as women. It's a sort of game people play." We were getting onto slippery ground here. I needed to be careful.
"Is that what happened last night? Are you saying I get turned on by being spanked?"
"I don't know. It could just have been the circumstances."
"Would you do it again?"
"Yes," I said firmly. "If you behave like you did yesterday, I'll do it again."
She shivered. "That gives me a funny feeling inside, sort of goosebumpy."
I hugged her and grinned. "Then perhaps you've answered your previous question about being turned on by spanking."
"Don't push it, buster," she said but she was smiling. "And don't change the subject."
"I didn't know I was," I said mildly.
"So you took Gemma to this spanking club and thrashed her bottom and cured her of her bad behaviour."
"There was a bit more to it than that," I protested. "All I did was force her to re-examine her behaviour and, in particular, the company she was keeping. I had to do a lot of re-examining myself. Actually I think it was her friend getting arrested that tipped the scales."
"Okay. So why to you continue to go? Does she get turned on by being spanked? Is that why you go back every week?"
Here it was the million dollar question. "In part, yes, but partly it's because most of the people there have been through the same thing. Sort of a common bond."
"But spanking gets her horny," she persisted.
"Yes."
"And she has sex afterwards."
"Yes," I admitted reluctantly.
"You mean you take her every Thursday and spank her to make her horny then let her screw a load of men?"
"Now stop right there. That's enough. How many people has Gemma slept with?"
"I don't know."
"One, two, ten, twenty?" I persisted.
"I don't know. More than one, I would guess."
"You don't know. I don't know. And we don't know who they are or what they're like. Now I'll tell you exactly how many she's had sex with since we joined the club. Two. Two people that I have met and personally approved of. So you tell me which is better, that she goes out and screws around with God knows who and possibly gets pregnant or gets AIDS or something like that, or she has sex in a safe and secure environment where all the people she meets have been vetted and I meet them first? I assume you accept that she does have sex?" I had a sense of déjà vu remembering an almost identical conversation with David.
"Yes, I do. She told me." She was visibly shaken. "When you put it like that, it does seem more sensible. It's just…"
"I know how you feel," I said in a softer tone. "I felt the same. It took me a while to come to terms with it, myself - that my little girl was sexually active. All I can say is Gemma enjoys it immensely. She gets a great kick out of the whole scene."
"Oh, I suppose she must." Her voice was slightly wistful. "That's why you come back looking like the cat that got the cream." She stopped as if struck by a thought. "And what about you, Gerry. Do you get a kick out of it, too?"
Oh, dear. Here it was - confession time. "I have to admit I do."
"Spanking me last night made you horny so I presume spanking Gemma has the same effect?"
"Er, yes."
"And you have sex afterwards?"
"I'm sorry to say I do." I held my breath.
"Oh. How many?"
"Huh?"
"How many women or girls?"
"Two."
"Tell me about them."
"What? Are you sure?"
"I'm sure," she said resolutely. "If my husband is screwing around I want to know what the competition is like."
I told her about Margo and Kieran and David and Kiri. She listened in silence. "This Margo. Do you fancy her?"
"Well, she's very attractive."
"That's not what I mean. Do you like her? Would you date her, meet her outside the club?"
"Good God, no. In fact after a few weeks, both Gemma and I decided we didn't really like her much. She was too changeable… unpredictable… moody. One time she would be taking charge and setting everything up and the next she would be sort of uncaring, wanting me to organise it all. We were rather relieved when they didn't show and we met up with David and Kiri.
"Tell me about them."
"They were sort of an experiment. We wondered what it would be like to have somebody different, you know. Being spanked by and spanking someone else. And David and Kiri were in the same boat I as us. In fact David was very hung up about it and we had to do a bit of persuading."
"Did you enjoy it?"
"Yes. In some ways it was actually better."
"Better than Margo or better than me?"
"Marion," I said as earnestly as I could, "if it came down to a choice between you and the club, I'll stop today. Is that the choice? You or the club? If so, just say the word and I'll phone Felix right now."
She searched my eyes as if trying to see into my very soul. I held her gaze. I meant every word. Oh, I would miss the club and Kiri in particular but, when all was said and done, it was a sideline, a diversion.
"I think you mean that," she said in a slightly surprised voice. "Okay, go make your phone call."
I stared at her, blindly. Had it really come to this? Had I really stepped so far out of line? I suppose I had, if I was honest about it. I searched her face for some sign but it was set like a mask of stone. With a sigh, I stood, my body suddenly weighing several tons. This was it. I had said there was no choice and I meant it. I picked up the phone and started to dial.
"Gerry," said a small voice behind me. I turned. "Put down the phone." She patted the seat beside her.
Utterly bewildered, I sat. She threw her arms around my neck and showered me with kisses. She was laughing and crying at the same time.
"Oh, thank God," she cried. "You would have done it. I thought I'd lost you but you really meant it." I put my arms around her automatically. I was lost. "You don't understand, do you?" I shook my head. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought… I thought you didn't love me any more… that you'd found somebody at this club. I didn't know what to do. I was so worried."
I let out a long, whistling breath. So that was what was behind all this. A sense of relief flooded through me followed by an acute sense of guilt. Poor Marion. I'd been so caught up in myself and my games that I hadn't noticed the torment she was going through. I hugged her tightly, overwhelmed by a feeling of love.
"It's I who should apologise," I said with a shaky laugh. "I'm sorry, dear, I've been so selfish. I've been so worried you wouldn't want me that it never occurred to me that… What a fool I've been."
She wriggled onto my knee and smiled coquettishly. "So you still love me?"
"I've never stopped. I love you, Marion, now and forever."
She sighed deeply and snuggled up. "Now tell me all about your naughty going's on."
"Really?"
"Really. In every salacious detail."
So I told her, in nearly every salacious detail, about our sessions with Margo and Kieran and David and Kiri although my story was interrupted by numerous 'you nevers', 'she didn't really, did shes' and other exclamations of disbelief. As I recited my tale, I could see she was becoming agitated. She fidgeted on my lap apparently unable to sit still. I was getting a trifle concerned until I glanced down and saw her nipples, hard as nuts, poking holes in her jumper.
'Good God,' I thought. 'This is turning her on.'
When I had finished, she hid her face behind her hair and sighed. "It sounds like fun," she said in a small voice.
I could hardly believe what I was hearing. Did she mean she really didn't mind? "Why don't you come with us?" I asked as casually as I could. She looked at me as if I was joking. "It's a family club. You'd be very welcome."
"Why would you want me to come?"
"Because… because I love you. We love you, Gemma and I. I've been wondering for ages about how to ask you and haven't dared. The one sour note in all this is that we haven't been able to share it with you."
"Well, I don't know," she sounded doubtful. "It's a big step. After all I don't really know if I'm into this spanking lark."
"Only one way to find out. Seriously, there's no pressure. You do what you want to do. Nobody'll force you to do anything you don't want. And if you don't like it, you could just come for the company."
"I don't know. I'll think about it. I don't really understand this sexual spanking thing."
"I didn't either at the beginning. I did some research. Tell you what, tomorrow we'll look at some websites and you can see what you think."
"But tomorrow's Thursday; your club night."
"Pish and tosh. You said yourself the club will still be there next week. David and Kiri will be disappointed but they'll understand."
"No," she said firmly. "You go. Tell me the websites and I'll look them up." She blushed. "I might find them… overwhelming."
I laughed with a sense of ease I hadn't felt in a while.
"So, what happens now?" she asked with a smile.
"Now I take my beautiful and sexy wife to bed and make passionate love to her."
"I think I might enjoy that."
Gemma came clattering down the stairs, deliberately making a lot of noise.
"Sorry," she said cheerily. "Need a drink."
"Gemma," Marion said. "Come here."
"Yes, Mum."
Marion affected a stern look. "Gemma, you really are a naughty girl. I don't know quite what to do with you. I should be very angry. Maybe I should even spank you except I think you might enjoy it." She couldn't maintain the pose and broke into a smile. "Give me a hug."
They hugged each other tightly. "You really are a naughty girl and I love you dearly."
"Oh, Mum."
I caught Gemma's eye over Marion's shoulder. She raised her eyebrows enquiringly. I shrugged but couldn't wipe the foolish smile from my face.
"We were just going to bed," I said.
Gemma pretended to look shocked. "In that case I'll lock up," she grinned.
Marion and I exchanged glances and went upstairs.