Late Again

I shut the front door behind me as silently as possible, toeing my shoes off and shoving them to one side of the hall. Richard would tell me off for not putting them on the shoe rack, but right now that was the lesser of two evils. I didn’t want to risk putting the light on and advertising my presence. There was the faintest hope that I could creep upstairs and pretend I’d been there all along. Maybe Richard would never notice that I was three hours late from work?

I was edging quietly to the stairs when suddenly a voice spoke out of the darkness, making me jump in shock and shriek.

“And just where have you been?”

The light clicked on and I blinked against its brightness, frozen to the spot in what was no doubt the perfect picture of guilt. I risked a glance in the direction of the voice. What I saw was not hopeful, and my stomach sank. Richard was looming in the living room doorway, arms crossed and a grim expression on his face. His tall and muscular frame looked even more intimidating than usual.

Oh shi – oh shoot. I think I’ve really done it this time.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

I gulped nervously, my brain whirling madly to try and find the best way out of this situation. Unfortunately I didn’t seem to be coming up with any solutions apart from the good old standby, panicking.

“Tobias Zachary Feather!” barked Richard, making me jump again and realise that I’d been so lost in thought I’d actually ignored my partner, never a good thing at the best of times, let alone when I was already in trouble. I flicked a wistful look back at the door. Was it too late to run for it?

“Um… hello?” I said hesitantly.

A single dark brow rose in response, showing amazed disbelief that that was the best answer to his question that I could come up with. With a sigh, Richard straightened to his full height of six foot one and beckoned me over.

“All right. I can see that it’s going to take some time to get to the bottom of this. And I bet you’ve not had anything to eat yet.”

Richard looked at me questioningly, and sighed again when I just shook my head numbly.

“Come on into the kitchen and I’ll fix you some soup – you can’t go to bed on an empty stomach. We’ll sort this mess out after you’ve eaten.”

I trailed after Richard meekly, sitting at the table as he indicated and watching in silence as he warmed up a tin of soup and dug out a couple of bread rolls. My stomach was clenched with guilt and nerves and I didn’t feel at all like eating, but I knew from experience that trying to refuse the food would not be accepted. For some reason Richard was hot on all this ‘proper diet’ stuff and insisted on stuffing me with three square meals a day whether I wanted them or not.

It didn’t take long for the soup to be ready, and Richard set it before me with a soft stroke of the hair before sitting down opposite me. I leaned into his hand and relaxed slightly, managing a faint smile at him in thanks for the meal. Even if I didn’t actually want it, it showed he still cared for me.

I picked up the spoon and swirled it in the soup, watching the circles that appeared as if they held the meaning of life. I picked up one of the rolls and began to crumble it into the bowl, the pieces sinking into the viscous liquid and adding texture to the pretty patterns I was making.

“Toby, that soup is for eating not for playing with,” said Richard after a minute or two.

“But I’m not hungry,” I said in a tone perilously close to a whine.

“Try. If you eat something, you’ll find that you are hungry. You need some proper food in you, anyway. You can’t exist on fresh air and sunshine. Or is that Coke and Mars bars?” he asked with a penetrating look.

I ducked my head, not replying but feeling a blush heat up my face and neck. My pale complexion could be the bane of my life sometimes. I hastily slurped a few spoonfuls of the soup, finding that it actually slipped down easily despite my tense stomach.

Finally the spoon scraped on the bottom of the empty china bowl. I did feel slightly better for the food – I had to admit that Richard always seemed to know what I needed, even if it wasn’t what I wanted. And yes, I knew that that was the whole point of this relationship, but knowing it didn’t mean that it was any easier to follow the rules sometimes.

“Right,” said Richard briskly, not giving me any more time to think. He stood, taking the bowl over to the sink and leaving it to soak. “Let’s go in the living room to discuss this.”

He took my hand firmly and pulled me up from the chair, taking no notice of my feeble resistance now that the hour of my doom had finally arrived. I trailed behind him meekly, still unable to think of any way to get out of what I knew was coming.

Once parked on the settee, I looked down at my hands, examining the short nails with great interest. Anything to avoid looking up into that intense, dark stare.

“So, to go back to my earlier question, where have you been all evening?”

“Toby?” Richard’s voice prompted, with a note of warning, when I stayed silent.

“Um… at work?” I said, faintly.

“At work. Until nearly nine in the evening. We’ve talked about you working too hard before, haven’t we, Toby? We agreed that you were to work until six o’clock at the latest, unless you had express permission from me.”

“But it’s not fair!” I argued, finally looking up. “No one else has a curfew. I’m supposed to be the project leader, how can I do that if I’m always leaving early?”

“Leaving at six o’clock is hardly leaving early. Nine hours is more than long enough for you to achieve your goals for the day. If you worked any longer you might be putting in more hours, but you wouldn’t be achieving more work, because you would be tired and making mistakes. But this is beside the point – we discussed this last time and you agreed that you would leave work at six. Is there a reason that you’re three hours late?”

“I couldn’t leave things where they were, we were in the middle of something important.”

“In that situation I expect you to call me and ask if you can stay longer.” Richard said calmly.

”I couldn’t stop what we were doing and say I had to ring my boyfriend for permission to stay out!” I exploded.

“Keep your voice down, please, Toby. There will be no yelling in this house, is that clear?” Richard waited until he got my mutter of agreement, then continued with his point. Nothing ever seemed to get him worked up enough to forget where we were in a discussion – something I’d learned through hard and painful experience.

“And there’s no need to be silly. You wouldn’t have to say anything of the sort. All you had to do was to say you were going to call home to tell me that you were going to be late, which is common courtesy among any couple. If I decided you shouldn’t stay, you could merely have said you were needed at home.”

I flushed. The truth of the matter was that I hadn’t rung home because I knew Richard wouldn’t let me stay tonight, not because of any embarrassment over what my colleagues might think. And it was beginning to look as if Richard might somehow know this, too. Which would mean I was in trouble for lying and manipulation, as well as lateness. Which was Not A Good Thing. What had I thought earlier about being doomed?

“As it was, I had no idea where you were and I was worried. What if you’d been in an accident? When I tried to ring your mobile phone, it was switched off,” Richard continued and I wriggled in guilt. I hadn’t thought about how he might feel, just about what I wanted at the time.

“Let me remind you that your mobile is to be ON in all circumstances. I need to be able to contact you in an emergency. When I tried to ring you at work, I was informed that you were indeed still in the building, and had left a message that you were not to be disturbed. Look at me, Toby,” Richard said, and I forced myself to meet his stern gaze.

“That was pure defiance on your part, and we both know it. If such a thing ever happens again, I shall come and fetch you in person. I have no doubt you would find that embarrassing, so I suggest you ensure that there is no need for me to ever have to do it.”

I swallowed, knowing that Richard never made a threat he wasn’t prepared to carry out. I’d learned that through hard experience as well. I hated fusses, I hated people taking any notice of me – much nicer to stay quietly in the background. If Richard ever came bursting in after me there’d be a horrendous fuss and I vowed then and there to make sure this promise was never put into practice.

“So, let me get this straight,” Richard said. “You decided you wanted to stay late this evening, and rather than ring me and take the chance that I would say no, you decided to completely ignore our agreement. The fact that you switched off your mobile and said you were unavailable at work shows that you knew what you were doing was not acceptable. I know you weren’t deliberately trying to worry me, but that’s what you did, and you must face the consequences of your actions.”

I was scarlet by now. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Never meant to worry you.”

“I know, sweetheart. Thank you. I’m also concerned that you haven’t been taking proper care of yourself. I’m sure you haven’t been taking a full lunch break, and I know for a fact that your stomach does not appreciate all this late eating and angst that you’re putting it through.”

Richard paused for a moment and I felt that self-same stomach sink further as I knew he was about to pronounce judgement on me.

“I think we’re going to go back to basics,” said Richard. “I’ll help you prepare a nutritional packed lunch every morning, and I shall expect you to eat it while taking a full lunch hour. During which you shall also take a twenty minute walk – you’re beginning to look pasty with all this work and no exercise. I’m going to put you on your honour to do this, Toby,” he said seriously. “I know if you give your word I can trust you to follow it. But if I find you’ve been skipping meals, there will be trouble.”

“I promise,” I said. This sounded lighter than I’d been expecting, anyway.

“And for the next two weeks I shall expect you to leave at half-past five,” pronounced Richard.

“Half-past five!” I screeched. “No one leaves then!”

“Lower your voice, Toby, I shan’t tell you again,” snapped Richard and I shut up pretty fast, but with the mutinous look still on my face.

“That’s the time that you’re actually contracted to work until, and you’ve put in so many extra hours recently nobody’s going to complain about you leaving on time. I know you love your work, and you’re a genius in your field, but it’s time to readdress your work-life balance. I miss you when you’re not here in the evenings, Toby.”

I looked up again, pulled out of my indignation by the soft tone of his words. I had to admit an evening at home with Richard was much nicer than one at work – it was just I tended to get so caught up in my job I couldn’t leave, even if I remembered what the time was.

“What’s up?” Richard asked softly, obviously guessing something was wrong – if I didn’t know better I’d say he was psychic, he often seemed to know more about what I was really thinking than I did.

“I miss you too, and I’ll try to leave on time, but Richard, sometimes I just can’t keep track of when it’s time to leave, or when to take lunch. I have to have an alarm set up on my computer to say when it’s time for meetings, and even then I’m sometimes late.” I bit my lip, thinking of several previous meetings. I really hated everyone staring at me when I rushed in late – it was that awful feeling which had driven me to set up the computer alarm in the first place.

“Then I’ll help you, sweetheart,” Richard said gently. “That’s what I’m here for. Would you like me to ring you when it’s time for lunch, and when it’s time to come home? Or you can set up an alarm for those times, too, but if I ring you for the next couple of weeks, that should give you time to get into the habit.”

I smiled at him, forgetting for a moment that I was in deep trouble. Richard always seemed to have the solutions to my problems.

“Okay, so it’s agreed, then,” Richard smiled back, the corner of his eyes crinkling in the way that I loved. “A full hour’s break, including a walk and a good lunch, leaving at five thirty for the next two weeks, and I’ll call to remind you when to take lunch and leave. Right, then. Now we just have to deal with your punishment for today’s actions.”

“Richard!” I wailed, but softly, not wanting to be accused of shouting again and increase the amount of trouble I was in. “You’re already punishing me by making me leave early. Isn’t that enough?”

“That isn’t punishment, that’s looking after your welfare, Toby love. Come on, don’t string this out.” He held out his hand in encouragement.

I scowled at it, not wanting to do this, but still seeing no way out of it. Richard waited patiently, hand still outstretched, and finally I cracked, taking the hand and coming to stand in front of him.

He knew this part wasn’t easy for me, and he was as quick as possible, smoothly unsnapping my jeans and drawing them down my hips. My briefs followed, and then I was tugged into position over Richard’s lap. I wriggled nervously, already uncomfortable and knowing it was about to get worse.

“I won’t draw this out,” said Richard. He never lectured much when I was over his knee – he knew I was too busy concentrating on getting through the squirming embarrassment and the pain to take in what he was saying.

“You know you’re getting punished for breaking your rule to come home at six o’clock. Also for switching your phone off in a deliberate attempt to avoid me saying ‘no’.”

Without further ado, his hand cracked down on my poor tender backside. This was when I always wished I’d listened to his urges to eat more – surely if my behind was less bony, this would hurt less. I jumped, but his left hand, holding me firm, prevented me from moving far. A rain of hard smacks fell, despite my squirmings and snufflings as I tried to stop myself from crying. The sting growing greater and greater until finally I stopped trying to control the pain and gave into the urge to cry. Still Richard’s hand fell relentlessly.

My backside seemed to be one large, hot ache when he finally stopped. His hand instead began to stroke soothingly down my back, as he raised me to a kind of kneeling position which kept most of my weight off my bottom. I grabbed hold of him tightly and buried my sobs in his soft shirt, aware of nothing much apart from it was finally over, the knot of guilt had vanished from my stomach, and my lover was whispering comforting nothings into my hair.

I have no idea how long we stayed like this, but finally my crying had stopped and the cramp in my left leg meant I had to move. I shuffled awkwardly and Richard released me instantly, helping me rub away the pins and needles. He handed me a clean white handkerchief and I wiped my face, removing my glasses and polishing away the tears before blowing my nose heartily. I really ought to carry handkerchiefs myself for just such a situation, but I swore to myself that from now on I would be so good that this would be the last time Richard would ever need to spank me. I ignored the little voice saying ‘yeah, right’, in the back of my brain.

I pulled up my underwear but ignored my jeans, no way was I going to wear heavy denim over a behind that was no doubt as red as my hair. I’d go change into some jogging bottoms in a moment. When I’d finished cuddling with Richard. Yawning, I curled up next to him, vaguely wondering as always why a process I absolutely loathed and would do almost anything to avoid was so cathartic and left me feeling so at peace. But mainly, as Richard’s warm arm enclosed me, as I snuggled down into his body, just grateful that I was the lucky man who had Richard Johnson as his lover.