The Breaking Point. Mariella Starr

when he’s in uniform,” Tracy interjected, giving Faith a smile over his head.

      “Dad and I still have to discuss it,” Faith warned her son. “Tracy, if I send Ricco over with a backpack and one ticket, you’ll know he’s going to be your guest for the weekend, and maybe you can still give away the extra ticket. We will be going to the game. If I send him over with a backpack and three tickets, he’s yours until you bring him back. We will return the favor.”

      “Yeah!” Ricco shouted, and he ran down the stairs and darted into his room.

      Tracy and Faith walked the stairs at a slower pace, and Tracy stopped at a portrait of Ales, Faith had painted years earlier.

      She looked over her shoulder at Faith. “He was gorgeous then. Now he’s just plain eatable.”

      “Tracy!” Faith exclaimed.

      Tracy laughed. “Honey, I’m honest to a fault and aren’t you lucky that I have a man of my own, that I love to pieces. When it’s my weekend, oh là là!” She wiggled her bottom. “I am going to be prepared!”

      Ales considered the offer for all of ten seconds. “I’ll take Ricco over, and give them the tickets and some cash, so they’re not footing the entire bill. A hotdog at the stadium is six bucks.”

      “I didn’t think you’d give up an Orioles game so easily,” Faith said.

      “You’re kidding?” Ales exclaimed. “A baseball game or alone time with my wife—it’s a no brainer. I’ve already called Jill and told her we wouldn’t be at her 4^th of July picnic. I won’t tell you what her response was.”

      “Was it dirty?” Faith asked with a grin.

      “Very,” Ales growled, shaking his head.

      Ales walked Ricco over with a small duffle bag, and he spoke with Curtis London. He’d met the deputy before, and he knew Tracy had been a childhood friend of his wife. He kept an eye on the street, watching Curtis London navigate the downward slope slowly as was the habit of all the residents. There were concrete pillars on the outside of the sidewalk across the narrow, steep street, so if a vehicle coming down the steep hill lost their brakes, they wouldn’t plow into the building across from the stop sign. Those pillars would do significant damage to the front end of a vehicle, and probably to the occupants, but they would save the lives of the people in the offices behind the pillars.

      He walked into the kitchen, where Faith was storing away the last of the groceries he’d brought home. “You brought home a lot of tailgate food,” she scolded.

      “It won’t go to waste with an eight-year-old in the house,” he mumbled as he kissed her. “My tailgating this weekend involves your tail, and we might as well get started. We’re rolling back time.”

      “Now?”

      “Now!” Ales said, and he bent over, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her up the stairs, with Faith giggling. He dumped her on their bed, closed, and locked the door, although they were alone. He reached for her tee shirt, pulled it over her head carefully, and unhooked her bra.

      Faith was naked in a matter of seconds. Ales stripped himself, and then sat on the bed. He pulled her over and onto his lap.

      “I love you, sweetheart, but this has been a long time coming. It’s not your fault. It’s mine for letting you get sassy and disrespectful. We’ve been letting each other get away with a lot that we shouldn’t have tolerated. Neither of us has been holding the other to the line, on what we agreed upon as the principles of our marriage. I told you I was going to give you a spanking, and I am. Calling me an asshole jump-started this.”

      “Now?” Faith questioned.

      “What better time? Who is the head of our house?” Ales asked.

      “You are,” Faith said.

      “I am, and you agreed to certain principles of a lifestyle, didn’t you?”

      Faith nodded, and she felt a hard spank across her bare bottom. “Yes, I did,” she said aloud.

      “Spanking was a regular part of our courtship and our early married life,” Ales reminded his wife, positioning Faith over his lap. He stroked her beautiful, curvy buttocks. He’d always been a butt man, and his wife’s bottom was perfect. Perfect for spanking and perfect for other sexual activities they enjoyed. “It’s been a long time since we had a spanking. How often did we have them?”

      Faith knew the routine of his questions. It was more of a reminder that he was in charge, although he had forgotten or ignored it for a long time. He’d always given her spankings when he thought she deserved one.

      “We never kept track, and it was usually about every two weeks,” she admitted.

      “More like once a week,” Ales corrected her with a hard spank.

      “I was younger then, and immature. I hadn’t learned to keep my mouth shut!”

      “Calling me an asshole was immature,” Ales said, rubbing his hand across her bottom. “How do you feel about being disciplined?”

      “I never liked spankings. No one wants their butt toasted, but they do relieve a lot of tension between us!” Faith admitted.

      “Because you don’t want to face conflict, and you allow it to fester and grow into anger. Then, you explode and it gets you into trouble every time,” Ales said as he rubbed his hand across her bottom and he gave her a stinging swat.

      “I questioned my mother once when I heard Daddy spanking her. I must have been six or seven. She told me that being spanked is just of way of showing a woman or a child they’ve crossed a line, between being good and bad,” Faith said closing her eyes with the memory. “Momma said Daddy spanked her because he loved her, just as she spanked me because she loved me and wanted me to be a better person.”

      “They did, and I do. We love each other, and spankings have never harmed our relationship,” Ales agreed. “We agreed on practicing a D/D marriage, but I haven’t lived up to my part of the bargain for quite some time. I never stopped spanking you when we were being intimate, but I did stop spanking you for misbehavior. That stops now.

      “I’m not sure how our basic agreements fell to the side, but I’m not going to let it happen again. You’re a woman who needs to be reminded that snide remarks and tit-for-tat behavior won’t be tolerated. I’m also going to depend on you to keep me in check, so I don’t abuse my position. You need to speak up, but lately, I think you’ve been channeling my sister! I need you to speak up just don’t carry it too far. And, don’t forget, she gets her ass striped quite often by her husband! Mack uses a paddle!”

      Faith raised her eyes to him in surprise. “Really?”

      “Each to their own, and whatever works between them is their business,” Ales said. “I wouldn’t, and Jill would hate me for saying this, but she can be a lot like our mother, so she probably has it coming. You are the polar opposite, and I’d like you to stay that way. You just need to stop hiding your feelings. Are we in agreement in this?”

      “Yes,” Faith said, and she found herself keenly awaiting another strike of his hand.

      “Good,” Ales said, laying a stinging hard spank across her buttocks. Several more hard whacks elicited a squeal and a yelp. He spanked every inch of her beautiful bottom, turning it bright pink, except around the lingering bruise at the top of her thigh. Spanking his wife made Ales feel more in control, more of the dominant they had agreed was his role. It wasn’t what some called toxic masculinity, and he would never let labels define him. The only woman he had to please was his wife, and spanking her, hearing that satisfying smack when his hand landed on her bottom, had always turned him on. Spanking revved Faith’s libido, too!

      Faith could feel the heat on her buttocks, as well as an increasing need in her lower regions. There was an exciting tingly feeling swirling around inside her. Still, she had to endure the spanking,