The Cruel Punishment

by Anne O’Nonymous

 

Jo had had a hard day; everything seemed to go wrong. He could not forget that Janice was going to punish him this weekend! That fact alone bothered him as he finished setting the table for her dinner. He made spaghetti with shrimp and baby clam sauce, and a chocolate mousse for dessert. This would be accompanied by Port wine. He took great pains to get everything perfect hoping to mollify his wife.

Suddenly the front door opened, then slammed shut. The sounds of someone muttering epithets and stomping down the hall to the dining area echoed through to the kitchen.

"Damn those idiots! Why can’t a simple order be followed! Any freakin’ jerk could do that job, but those clowns really take the cake," Janice practically shouted as she entered the adjoining family room and sat down.

"What happened," Jo innocently inquired, as he moved to slip off her shoes and massage her tired feet. After that was done, he would get her slippers for her.

"Shipping sent 20,000 units to a west coast warehouse, and the order was for an east coast distributor. To top it all off, they sent the bill of lading to the wrong company. It took almost the whole day to get everything straightened out. I’m really pissed off, and I hope dinner is ready – oh, by the way, I didn’t forget about this weekend." She said this last sentence with a smile, anticipating the fun.

"Please, can’t we forget about it?" Jo pleaded. "I’ll be real careful from now on, I promise!"

"No! I want to make sure you remember. When I get through with you, I’m sure you won’t forget – and that’s a promise!"

Her mind was made up, and there was no way that he could change it. At least he tried.

"Sit down and enjoy your dinner," Jo said, as he served her in his French maid’s outfit. He had changed from a more traditional maid’s uniform he usually wore to the frillier outfit, hoping its frou-frou would get through to his wife. Black sheer stockings and white satin petticoats are not good for doing regular housework.

Joining her at dinner, he was as attentive as possible – listening to how her day went and trying to soothe her feelings. They talked about everything except the foul-up. When the dinner was over, Jo cleared off the dishes and put them in the sink, then washed, dried and put them away. He then wiped down the dining room table and mopped the kitchen floor. In the meantime, Janice retired to the family room to watch TV for a while before bed.

As it grew late, Jan decided to call it a day, and as she went up the stairs, she said to Jo, "Don’t forget, you sleep in the other room tonight," adding, "Dear," as an afterthought.

He did not like that room! There was a hard, stiff atmosphere about it, like a regimented barracks. He had to try one more time. "Please, I don’t want to do this, Mistress Janice." It was one of the ways he could get her to change her mind.

She laughed, stating, "Still at it, huh! I have this whole weekend ready for you, and I want to see you squirm, little man."

After finishing the day’s chores, Jo headed up to the "other" room. On the bed was a print nylon nightgown, and pink slippers under the bed. After nail polish and makeup was removed, he took a quick shower and crawled in under the covers, dreading the Saturday to come. After tossing and turning, sleep finally came.

At 7:30 am, the alarm sounded, waking Joe from a somewhat sound sleep. After a few yawns, he put on the slippers from under the bed, went to the bathroom for a quick wash. The chenille robe was next. Joe then headed for the kitchen to make two breakfasts, consisting of French toast covered with Strawberry Jam and honey, soy sausages and fresh squeezed OJ. The silence at breakfast was deafening! All his entreaties went for naught!

As Jan washed and dried the breakfast dishes, Joe sadly headed to the bathroom and showered with the deodorant soap, removing all traces of perfume and makeup. The hair was washed, dried then tied with a rubber band in a typical male ponytail fashion. Outside, in the bedroom, he heard the sound of Jan calling out.

"OK, Joe, throw out those things for the wash. I’ve left clothes for you on the bed."

Out went the soft nightgown, satin panties, and slippers. Out went the nylon slip, maid’s uniform and stockings from yesterday. Out went all of the lovely, soft things he loved to wear. Although he had no need to shave, he slapped on some aftershave and cologne anyway.

After rubbing himself dry, Joe sauntered into the room with the towel wrapped around his lower regions. He groaned at the sight before him! The instruments of torture were spread out on the bed. "What was she thinking," was his first reaction. His second and third did not count

The dressing did not take long. The underwear was t-shirt and boxers that almost fit. Almost no care was taken in the selection of outerwear, consisting of a smelly, unwashed sweatshirt, walking shorts that had seen better days, intensely itchy knee-high socks and loafers. There was no use looking in the mirror, he could see what he looked like. He decided to go down and present himself.

The stairs were strange to negotiate – he missed the sound and feel of heels on the stairs. The aroma was something else. "English Leather, indeed! Jan seems to be into S/M." At the bottom of the staircase, he met Jan and she led him into the family room.

"Hey, old buddy! Howya doin’," came from the sofa that had been moved to the front of the TV.

"Err, hi Bill. Long time, no see!"

William Ebson was once his boss. He was the most opinionated, boring, dullest person he ever knew.

Jan entered the room smiling, carrying a tray with four beers. "Now you two just sit and talk and watch the games together. I’ll have some snacks ready in a jiff." Jan led Joe over to the sofa and watched as he sat.

"Now, I’ll just be over in my chair sewing, and if you need anything, just yell. There are four ball games today, and a full case of cold beer in the fridge. I got plenty of pretzels and other snacks on hand."

Joe sat down and stared at the glass of beer in front of him. "Four ball games – oh my god! What a way to suffer," was uppermost in his mind!

"Hey, Joe. Bet I can tell you the score before the game the game starts."

"OK, wise guy. What’s the score!"

"Nuthin’ to nuthin’. Har, har, har."

It’s going to be a long, long, long day.

 

Finis

That’s all folks! Annie O

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Ann O'Nonymous. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.