Troublemaker Page 8

  What she didn’t expect was the answer that Ms Edridge gave her, in a calm voice with an almost-smile on her face. “For the same reason that you pretend to be a brat, Joanne. Because it’s fun.”

  Jo couldn’t stop a shocked laugh from escaping her.

  “Now, Mrs Butler, I would advise you to be ready and waiting in that corner when your tutor arrives. You’re already in enough trouble it is.”

  But as Ms Edridge turned to leave, Jo could have sworn that she saw her smirk.

  Chapter Twenty

  “So there are different ways to approach scolding—or ‘telling off’ if you prefer,” said Mr Wharton-Lees, pacing about the room as he spoke, while Chris and the other husbands sat on leather armchairs in a rough circle. “It depends, of course, on how you and your partner like to play. There is a whole range from cruel and verbally abusive tirades—if you like to play dark—to light-hearted, jokey lectures, to everything in between. There is the kind and caring approach where the punishment is ‘for her own good’ and any scolding reflects this. Or there is stern and formal. You might feel comfortable sticking to one style or changing between several depending on the situation and what you and your partner are feeling at any given time.”

  Chris picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and grimaced: it was cold. He had got too immersed in what Mr Wharton-Lees was saying and had forgotten all about his drink.

  “Have all of you had experience scolding your wives, whether in jest or a more serious manner?”

  There were a few nods but Chris wasn’t sure whether to join them. Sure, he and Jo had argued and had disagreements—did that count as him “telling her off” though? He wasn’t so sure. Then again, the “jokey lectures” the tutor had mentioned sounded like something he might do—and probably had done—but was that really what was meant by “scolding”?

  Chris was just trying to formulate these thoughts into actual words when there was a knock at the door.

  Mr Wharton-Lees stopped pacing at once and called, “Come in.”

  Chris didn’t know what he was expecting—Darcy maybe, with a tray of some more of those delicious little pastries she brought around earlier—but what he definitely wasn’t expecting was to see Mr Anderson walk in with a decidedly anxious-looking Jo trailing behind him.

  “Oh, bloody hell, what has she done now?” muttered Chris under his breath.

  Karl caught his eye and grinned. “So I take it this is Jo, then?”

  Chris let out his breath in an almost-laugh. “Yep.”

  “Can I help you?” asked Mr Wharton-Lees, looking from Mr Anderson to Jo and back again with polite interest.

  Mr Anderson stepped to one side and gestured at Jo. “I thought you might like to use Mrs Butler here for some real-life scolding practice.”

  There were amused murmurs around the room as the rest of the husbands clocked who Jo was.

  “I see,” said Mr Wharton-Lees. “What has she done? It must have been something quite serious for Ms Edridge to call you.”

  Mr Anderson turned to Jo. “Tell him what you did.”

  Jo folded her arms tight across her chest and glared at the floor, mouth shut.

  “Joanne, you can tell Mr Wharton-Lees what you did or we can move straight to your actual punishment, right here, right now, in front of everyone in this room,” said Mr Anderson. “Now which is it going to be?”

  Jo looked up and Chris caught her eye. “Do as he says, Jo,” he said, trying to inject as much sternness into his voice as he could muster.

  Jo looked shocked for a moment and then her mouth set in a straight line. “Fine!” she snapped. “I called Ms Edridge a fucking bitch. All right?”

  Someone laughed. Eddie whistled, shaking his head.

  Mr Wharton-Lees’ face remained impassive. “I see,” he said. “Mr Anderson, would you be so kind as to bring over two of the dining chairs?”

  “Of course.”

  “Now, gentlemen, you have heard what Mrs Butler has done. Now unless, of course, she is your wife,” he gave Chris a nod, “I want you to imagine that she is your wife and how you would scold her for her behaviour. Ah, thank you,” he said as Mr Anderson brought the chairs over. “If we could have them in the usual way. Wonderful.”

  There was creaking and shuffling as the chairs were moved into place, two feet apart and facing one another.

  Mr Wharton-Lees beckoned to the chair on his right. “Mrs Butler, if you would come and sit here, please.”

  Chris watched as Jo shuffled over to the chair. Her earlier flare of petulance seemed to have evaporated and she was back to looking anxious as she lowered herself onto the seat.

  “Now then, you’re going to take it in turns to sit opposite Mrs Butler and scold her for her behaviour. What approach you take is up to you, but as none of you apart from Mr Butler really knows Mrs Butler, I would ask that you refrain from overly personal or offensive language. Now, is everyone clear on what we’re doing?”

  There were nods and murmured assents around the room. Chris nodded, although his eyes were still on Jo and the way she seemed to be trying to disappear into herself by hunching her shoulders and crossing her arms and legs as tightly as they would go. He thought back to his earlier chat with Eddie and wondered if Jo was play-unhappy or real-unhappy.

  “Mr Parry, as you’re the closest, would you like to go first?”

  Mr Parry adjusted his glasses as he got up and made his way over to the empty chair.

  Chris saw Jo look away as Mr Parry sat down.

  “Look at me.”

  His voice was quiet but stern. There was an almost ominous hardness to it. Chris thought he saw Jo shiver as she forced herself to look at the stranger sitting opposite her.

  “I am very disappointed in you, Jo,” he said, still in that quiet, stern voice. “There is no excuse for verbally abusing anyone. What were you thinking?”

  Jo looked away again. Even from several feet away, Chris could hear her shallow breathing.

  “Don’t you look away from me,” he snapped, upping the volume slightly. “I asked you a question.”

  Chris could sense Jo bristling. He could see in the stubborn set of her shoulders that she had no intention of doing what this man said. There was no way this approach was going to work. Not with Jo, at least.

  Mr Parry must have been able to sense it too because he looked back at Mr Wharton-Lees and said, “I think we’d better leave it at that. If my wife was behaving this way, she would have been over my knee by now, but I guess in this case, that’s Mr Butler’s job.”

  “Very wise, Mr Parry,” the tutor replied with a nod. “Mr Younge, if you would like to take a seat next?”

  Mr Younge heaved himself up out of his chair. He was a tall, broad man with short black hair who had the look of a farmer about him. The chair opposite Jo creaked as he lowered himself into it.

  “Right then, little girl,” he said without preamble, his voice low and fierce. “If you even think about speaking to anyone like that ever again, I’ll be washing your mouth out with soap. That clear?”

  Jo gasped. “Oh my God, you don’t actually do that to Leah, do you?”

  Mr Younge’s serious, tanned face broke out into a wide grin. “Oh, you bet I do.”

  “But that’s horrible!”

  Mr Younge raised his dark eyebrows at her, his grin disappearing as if it had never been there. “Shouting and swearing at people is pretty horrible too, little girl.”

  “Stop calling me ‘little girl’!”

  “Stop acting like one then,” replied Mr Younge, unruffled. “You want to be a naughty, mouthy little brat, then you can expect to be treated as such.”

  Jo opened her mouth, an expression of pure outrage on her face.

  But before she was able to form words, Mr Younge burst out laughing and got up out of the chair, shaking his head. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Chris—you’ve got your work cut out for you with this one! Sorry,” he said to Mr Wharton-Lees as he made his way back to his chair, “but I had
also got to the point where things would have got physical.”

  “I understand,” said Mr Wharton-Lees with a nod. “Mr Drake, if you would like to go next?”

  Karl shot Chris a dubious look as he got up out of his armchair. Chris didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or secretly pleased that Jo was making this so difficult for everyone.

  Karl had barely settled in his seat before Jo said, “Your Heather’s husband, aren’t you?”

  Looking taken aback, Karl nodded.

  “Don’t punish her later,” said Jo, leaning forward and speaking with surprising urgency. “She tried her best and it wasn’t fair of Ms Edridge to give her a note.”

  “Joanne!” snapped Mr Anderson and Chris saw Jo jump, as though she had forgotten that their tutor was still here. “You are not the one who is meant to be talking.”

  “Indeed,” said Mr Wharton-Lees. “Mr Drake, please do continue.”

  Karl cleared his throat and pushed his black fringe back off his forehead. “So… why’d you do it?”

  “Because she was being really horrible to your wife,” Jo shot back at once. “You should be thanking me, not telling me off.”

  “Joanne, I’m warning you!” snapped Mr Anderson.

  “What?” she snapped back, swivelling around in her chair to glare at their tutor. “He asked me, so I answered. What was I fucking supposed to do?”

  Mr Anderson started forward but Chris was quicker.

  He wasn’t entirely sure what made him do it. Just that if this really was a game—a play—then this was his part and it was time to make a move.

  “Right, I think that’s enough lip from you,” he said, as he grabbed Jo by the elbow and pulled her up out of the chair.

  He got one look at her wide-eyed expression before turning her around and landing a hard smack on her bottom. He heard her gasp in horror and knew that it was more to do with the fact that everyone was watching than from any kind of pain. He gave her two more. Hard ones.

  “Please… not here… please… I’m sorry.” Her voice was high-pitched and panicked, and he knew that he’d made his point.

  Chris used his grip on her elbow to position her back on her chair. “If I have to come back up here again, I’ll be taking down your knickers and giving you a good hiding right here in front of everyone. Is that clear?”

  She gaped up at him, eyes wide, lips trembling.

  He gave her arm a little shake. “I said, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  “Okay, then,” he said returning to his chair with his hands thrust into his pockets, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

  “Well,” said Mr Wharton-Lees, as if nothing untoward had happened, “would you like to carry on, Mr Drake?”

  “Okay.” Karl cleared his throat again and then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “You know you deserve to be punished, right?”

  From what Chris could see of Jo’s bowed face, it was bright red. He saw her nod.

  “Are you sorry for what you did?”

  Another nod.

  “And you’re not going to do it again, are you?”

  She gave her head a tiny shake.

  “Because you know I don’t like punishing you, right?”

  Jo looked up at him then and Chris was surprised to see her smile.

  “You like good girl spankings,” she whispered.

  Karl half-smiled back and shrugged. “Er… that’s it,” he said, looking up at Mr Wharton-Lees.

  “Very well,” said the tutor. “Mr Wright?”

  Chris shifted forwards in his chair, curious to see how Eddie played this. He had a lot of respect for this guy.

  “So, sweetheart,” said Eddie as he settled himself into the chair, “sounds like you’ve had a trying day.”

  Jo looked up at him, and Chris could see some of the tension go out of her body as the man’s warmth and gentleness registered. She nodded.

  “You lose your temper, sweetheart?”

  Another nod.

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. “You feeling bad about that, angel?”

  “A bit,” she whispered and there was a slight tremor in her voice.

  “Do you feel bad because you’re in trouble now or because you’ve realised that it probably wasn’t the best thing to do?”

  Jo’s voice was so quiet that, even in the highly-charged silence of the room, it was hard to make out her words. “Because it wasn’t a good thing to do.”

  Eddie nodded. “You feel like you let yourself down?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Eddie leaned forwards and held out his hands. To Chris’s surprise, Jo immediately placed her hands in his.

  “You’re a good and brave girl to talk about this and be honest about how you feel,” said Eddie in his warm and gentle voice, rubbing his broad thumbs over her knuckles. “And I know you feel bad now, but everything is going to be fine. You believe me?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Sir? Oh sweetheart—you really are a good girl, aren’t you? Are you going to take your punishment like a good girl when the time comes?”

  Chris saw Jo swallow and then nod.

  Eddie raised one of her hands up and kissed it. “I’m proud of you, Jo,” he said.

  As Chris got up from his chair, he noticed that Jo seemed reluctant to let go of Eddie’s hands as the other man stood up.

  Eddie laughed. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s only Chris.”

  By the time Chris had sat down, Jo had retreated into her folded up shell as far back into the chair as she could go.

  “Well, this is all a bit unexpected, babe,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “If you were going for notoriety, I think you’ve achieved it.”

  Jo turned her face away to stare at the wall to her right. Her cheeks were bright red and her jaw was clenched.

  “I love that you stand up for yourself, Jo,” he said quietly. “I love that you stand up for other people. I love that you’re never afraid to say what you think. But there’s a line between that and just plain being rude to people, and it looks as though you crossed that line today.”

  Chris saw her shoulders slump slightly and he knew that, on some level at least, he was getting through to her.

  “And I think you know it and that’s why you’re being so defensive. You know it was a crappy thing to do. And,” Chris shifted in his seat, “you know that you’ll feel better about it once you’ve been punished. Am I right?”

  There was a pause. Chris hoped with all his might that he hadn’t misjudged his part in this particular play.

  With her face still averted, Jo whispered “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jo sat in the armchair in their lounge, her arms wrapped around her knees and her eyes fixed on the clock. Any minute now, surely?

  Chris had sent her back here while he finished his afternoon session. She hadn’t expected to be made to wait even longer for her punishment than she already had. The anticipation was torture in itself.

  How many hours had it been now since her altercation with Ms Edridge? Two? Three?

  As it had been doing on and off ever since she got back here, Jo’s mind drifted back to that moment when Chris had hauled her off her chair and spanked her in front of everyone. Okay, so it had only been a few smacks. And it was over her skirt. But it was the no nonsense way he had handled her, dominated her, that was sending shockwaves of lust through her body whenever she remembered it.

  Was this the same Chris who had struggled to even keep hold of her over his knee only a few days ago?

  Jo squirmed in her chair and looked back up at the clock. It was five now. Where was he?

  The sunlight shining in through the French windows had that dimming, yellowish quality to it that meant sunset couldn’t be far off and the lavender bushes lining the patio had long shadows. Jo would have opened those windows to let in some fresh air but she didn’t want everyone else in the centre hearing what was about to happen nex
t.

  Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself, Jo? whispered a mean little voice in her head. There’s no guarantee that anything will happen. Maybe he hasn’t changed at all. Maybe he was just showing off to the other men.

  Jo tightened her arms around her knees and stared down at the white floorboards.

  Then there was a click as the bedroom door opened.

  Jo jolted upright and let go of her knees. Her heart was pounding as she heard his footsteps.

  She expected him to come and find her in the lounge but instead he seemed to just be walking around in the bedroom. She heard the creak of the mattress, as if he were leaning on it, and then what sounded like pillows—or the duvet—being moved.

  Everything went quiet for a moment and then…

  “Jo, come in here please.”

  Trembling, Jo climbed out of the safety of her armchair and crept into the bedroom, her arms tight across her chest as if this was her only way of holding herself together.

  What she saw in the bedroom almost had her spinning around and running back into the lounge.

  Two pillows had been stacked up in the middle of the bed and Chris’s black belt was coiled up next to them.

  Chris himself was sitting in the squashy armchair in the corner, watching her. After a moment, he said, “Come over here, babe.”

  Jo shuffled over, eyes downcast, and stopped in front of the armchair. Chris put his hands around her thighs and pulled her in closer until she was effectively sandwiched between his knees.

  “You’re going to get two punishments,” he murmured, running his hands up and down her thighs in a way that made her shiver. “One for your behaviour towards Ms Edridge and this first one for your behaviour in my class this afternoon. And then tomorrow, before we leave, you’re going to apologise to every person you’ve been rude to since we started the course. That includes Mr Anderson. Understand?”

  Jo hugged her arms more tightly and said nothing.

  Chris used his grip on her thighs to give her a little shake. “Jo?”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  “Good girl,” he said, releasing her from between his knees. “Now take off your skirt and knickers.”