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For as long as she can remember, Gianna has dreamed of a man. He has come to her at night in her restless dreams, in her contemplative reveries as she watches her children at play. Even as a teenager, she would sometimes drift away until someone's voice would break in..."Gianna! Snap to it, homework to do!" She would shake herself, all thoughts of the man banished from her pretty head, for the moment anyway. She has never seen his face, but life would be unbearable if she could make herself believe she never would.
Gianna is married, to a kind man with laugh lines around his sparkling hazel eyes. He adores her, and she loves him, but it is the sweet, comfortable kind of love one feels for a spouse of long standing. The man of her dreams is kind too, but firm. Firm enough to take her in hand; Gianna likes that expression "taken in hand." She often jokes with her husband, tells him , "Joe, I am feeling so bitchy and out of sorts today, I need to be taken in hand!" Joe smiles and shakes his head lovingly at his sweetly eccentric wife. He knows that what his beautiful wife really wants is a spanking, and he only knows this because she finally confided it to him ten years ago, after seven years of marriage. He was most surprised initially, at this uncharacteristic revelation from his gentle wife.
But Joe loved Gianna, with all his being, and if Gianna wanted to be spanked, spanked she would be. He set about learning to spank her in the same methodical way he learned to do anything else for the first time. He read the articles she downloaded online, shaking his head. "People actually write about this stuff?" he asked.
And so, very tentatively, Joe began to take Gianna across his knee regularly. He cringed at the thought of inflicting pain on her lovely plump bottom, as he was not by nature a man who used physical force and, in fact, rarely raised his voice, even when upset with Gianna or the kids.
At all costs, though, he wanted to please her, so he put his uneasiness aside and listened to Gianna, who tried to explain, sometimes haltingly, exactly what it was she wanted. The teasing, the embarrassment of having her bottom bared, the little rituals she craved; slowly he pried every detail from her and tried to incorporate each one into her spankings, which became more frequent and intense as time passed.
But still Gianna was not satisfied. The man continued to haunt her dreams. She knew with certainty that the man wouldn't need her instructions, that instinctively he would know what she needed.
And one night, as her husband and kids slept, she sneaked out of her warm bed, dressed quickly, and stole into the garage. She was sure that the man she would meet that night was the man in her dream, that finally she would see his face. They had been communicating online for more than six months, and she just couldn't resist anymore.
But Joe was a light sleeper and heard the squeak of the garage door opening, reached across the bed...where was Gianna? He got up, still in his undershorts, and confronted her in the garage before she even entered the car, keys in hand.
"Where the heck are you going at 3 am?"
The whole sorry tale spilled out of her. The dreams, the man, the online conversations. She wept as she told him, knowing how she was hurting him, but once she started to speak, the story took on a life of its own, and she couldn't stop herself.
He stood immobile in stunned silence. But soon shock gave way to anger, and for the first time in her life, Gianna was afraid of her husband. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he seemed to reach some decision. Instinctively she backed away, but he was too quick for her and grabbed her elbow, and pushed her face down over the hood of the car.
"You want to be spanked hard, do you?" he shouted, sweeping up her short skirt. He was further incensed at the discovery of the black lace lingerie and stockings she wore, things he himself had bought her for her last birthday. "You were going to wear this for HIM?" He fairly ripped down the tiny seductive panties, exposing her bottom to the chill air in the garage.
Gianna then received the spanking of her life. Again and again his hand came down on her bare bottom, and even in her pain and distress she realized how restrained he had been all these years. His hand was large and hard, and he was spanking her as hard as he could for the very first time. She sobbed and kicked and begged, but to no avail. Just one hand on the small of her back kept her positioned quite nicely, as her legs dangled below. He shouted at her, not only about her planned infidelity, but at the foolhardiness of her sneaking off to meet a stranger in the middle of the night.
"What were you thinking of, Gianna? You're my wife, the mother of our kids! What if something happened to you tonight? How could I ever explain it to them?" The more he speculated on the dire possibilities, the more incensed he grew, and the harder he spanked her.
She was crying noisily now, big gulping, hiccupping sobs. "Please, Joe, stop...I'm sorry, please."
Her first words since the spanking began seemed to bring him back to his senses, and he stopped himself, staring in horror at her blazing red bottom.
"My God, look at you, what I have done?" he said, and ashamed at his loss of control , he opened the garage door and went back into the house.
Gianna composed herself, pulled her skirt down over her stinging bottom and almost ran into the house in her haste to be with her husband. She found him sitting on the edge of their bed, head in hands, and she knelt at his feet. Her heart broke at his troubled expression and she reached out to him, and they held each other close for several minutes before he spoke.
"Gianna, I'm so sorry, I hurt you, didn't I?"
"No more than I deserved, Joe. I don't know what got into me Joe, what I was searching for."
He lifted her to her feet and gently lay her face down on the bed, and lifted her skirt to survey the damage. Her bottom was blazing red, but nothing that wouldn't heal with application of some soothing lotion and a few days of sitting very gingerly. He set about starting the healing process, rubbing the lotion into her bottom, stopping only to kiss the tender flesh.
Of course one thing led to another, and soon Joe and Gianna were making love with an intensity they hadn't felt since they were newlyweds. Afterwards they slept on their sides (she out of necessity!), Joe curled up behind her, pressed up against her red bottom, one leg flung possessively over her body.
That night Gianna dreamed of the man for the very last time. But this time, when he took her into his arms he was faceless no longer. It was a dear, familiar, kind face, with laugh lines around the sparkling hazel eyes.