Page 10 of Her Shameful Wedding Night (Corporate Correction)

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Bradley walked throughhis door with a feeling of unreality about the evening. He knew from Zoe’s last text that she was there, waiting for him, just as she had come to his apartment for dinner nearly every night for the past few months. What would happen tonight, though, would make this dinner very different from the events of every other such evening, thanks to Zoe’s visit to the clinic.

Her new life.Davies had used that phrase several times during their second phone call—the one in which the program officer had made what he called his ‘initial recommendations.’If you want to get started the right way, in this program, you’ll want to get Zoe used to her new life as your bride.

“Hi, babe,” she said shyly, looking up from the handheld in front of her where she sat at his granite countertop. They usually ate there, rather than at the big table in the dining area, with Bradley just heating up something quick—if he didn’t just order pizza.

“Hi,” he said, smiling at his beautiful fiancée and feeling his heart melt a little at the uncertain look on her face. He put his laptop case on one of the dining chairs and went to Zoe, to put his arm around her and lean down for their usual chaste kiss.

You don’t want to hesitate, Davies had told him.If you show any uncertainty, Zoe will pick up on it, and that will make it more difficult for both of you to get what you need.

“There’s stuff for spaghetti and meat sauce—you can defrost the beef in the freezer. Why don’t you go ahead and start dinner?” he said.

Zoe frowned at this suggestion, which Bradley’s tone had emphasized a good deal more like a polite command than like a question.

“But,” she said uncertainly, “it’s... late? I could go get Olive Garden, maybe?”

“No, Zoe,” Bradley said. “You’re going to cook dinner tonight. It’ll take half an hour, and we’ll talk about the day while you do it. You’ll cook most nights from now on. I opened a joint bank account today for us, and you’ll use it for the groceries.”

Zoe’s lips had parted as he had delivered this news, a crease appearing on her brow. He could see in her eyes the same kind of uncertainty that had struck him so forcefully as he had watched her in the exam room that morning: she instinctively liked her fiancé calmly and decisively issuing instructions to her, but it stirred complex emotions with which she didn’t feel comfortable—including even the pleasure it gave her.

“Is this... about the... you know, the clinic?” she asked, looking up at him with a frown that made her seem even prettier than usual to Bradley. His own reaction to this small but decisive step of telling Zoe she must cook their dinner tonight had taken him by surprise: he felt the simple rightness of the dynamic for him, and for them, immediately. In fact, even his body had started to react to the mostly submissive but still slightly reluctant way Zoe had taken this first instruction.

“You could definitely say that, Zo,” he replied, smiling down at her and marveling at little at how naturally he had begun to slip into thishead of householdrole. “There’s a lot more to it, though. We’ll talk about it once you get started on dinner.”

Her blue eyes gazed up at him with an even more troubled air. “I don’t... well, you know I can’t really cook, Bradley. Maybe I can start learning? And then do more of it, like, after our honeymoon? Let’s just have pizza tonight, okay?”

He almost backed down. He probably would have backed down, if he hadn’t still seen in Zoe’s eyes how mixed her emotions had become about this simple traditional piece of married femininity. More, how strong a connection that mixture had with what she had gone through under the hands of the nurse only a few hours before.

Most important of all, he had Davies’ advice in the back of his mind, too:Zoe may well act out, especially at first. If this program is going to work for you, you need to make it clear, for both your sakes, what the consequences of acting out are going to be in your house.

“No, Zoe,” he said steadily. “You need to get dinner started. I’ll help. First thing is to get the beef out of the freezer and put it in the microwave on defrost. Now get going.”

Zoe bit her lip, the furrow in her brow deepening. “No,” she said. “And... and...”

She seemed to search for something to say, something that might sound like a reasonable means of protest.

“And I’m not going to putmymoney frommyjob in any joint account, so you can see how I use it. You can forget about that.”

Bradley frowned then, confused for a moment about the shift in topic. Then he thought he understood. Zoe had actually fastened onto herownreaction—her ownpositivereaction, he felt certain—to hearing that he had opened the account, and would help her take care of her spending habits. That made him even more confident than the simple fact of her clearly ambivalent rebellion against his newly announced authority would have on its own. He knew exactly what he had to do.

“Zoe, I’m going to give you one more chance to start cooking dinner.”

Her eyes went wide as saucers at the firmness in his tone. “Or what?” she demanded, pulling away from him and trying to shake off his arm.

“Or you’re going over my knee for a spanking, until you learn that from now on you’re going to do as I tell you.” He held her closer as she struggled, wanting her to sense the love behind the words.

“No!” Zoe cried. “You can’t! I’ll... I’ll tell. I’ll tell... people.” She kept squirming, but Bradley held her tightly, beginning now to get her to her feet so he could take her to the dining chair he had decided, even before he entered the apartment, would be the spanking chair if it turned out Zoe did need a firm hand on her bare bottom.

“Tell whoever you want, Zo,” he said as he started to draw her toward the dining area.

“What... where...” she spluttered, struggling in more earnest now, a panicked response obviously taking hold her body.

“I’m taking you to the spanking chair,” Bradley said calmly, even as he worked to subdue her flailing arms. “That’s where you’ll be punished from now on. I’m going to take down your jeans and your panties, and put you over my knee and teach you to obey me.”

Be clear, Davies had told him.Be firm. Remember how she reacted in the exam.

The program officer hadn’t known, either, exactly what Bradley had seen. He had simply had the experience that came with his position, that girls whose panties ended up in the state into which Zoe had put the gray thong of which the nurse had taken that picture needed a firm hand.

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