So this one's in Rosalie's POV. (Sorry it took so long - I uploaded it to the documents thing ages ago but forgot to add it to the actual story. Then I wondered why nobody reviewed lol!)
I tried to sort of get inside her mind a bit, I'm trying, through this story, to try and actually understand myself the mind of a submissive woman who needs a domestic discipine relationship. I know with the vampires it seems natural to them as in the times that they were born this sort of thing would have been natural but I think the mindset trancends times and cultures, so if anybody has any sort of insight or if anybody here is in this sort of relationship and could explain what they feel, or anybody who thinks this would suit them could explain why, then that would be really great, because I only have my own mind to work within. Anonymous reviews are enabled for anyone who would like to contribute but do it without identifying themselves, and any feedback is appreciated! Also - I have absolutely no clue what goes through the mind of a dominant person male or female so if anybody had any insight to that as well then that would be appreciated too!
I struggled as Emmett took me firmly in his grip. I'd pushed him too far now. I didn't want to be spanked, I didn't. I twisted under my husband's grasp, trying to free myself so that I could make a run for it, but it was pointless. Emmett was stronger than me anyway, and his super strength that came with his vampire territory rendered me powerless.
I was thankful in a way that I was about to get spanked, because at least then I would have paid for what I had done, been punished and forgiven and then I didn't need to feel bad about it anymore.
I had irritated everybody the past few weeks; I didn't even know why I was doing it. It felt powerful to say what I wanted and act as I pleased, but part of me didn't like being powerful. Part of me wanted to know that there was someone bigger and stronger than me to look out for me and take care of me, even if that meant spanking me when I deserved it.
It probably all came as a result of my human life. I had been nothing more than a bargaining chip for my parents, something they could use to further themselves. They didn't care what I did as long as I didn't ruin things for them. The result was that anytime I got spanked or disciplined in any way as a human it was usually for something I didn't deserve to be punished for. I remembered my father beating me one night with his belt because I had failed to capture the interest of one of the men at a dance.
It wasn't my fault he wasn't interested in me. I did my part, I wore a pretty dress and did my hair and danced properly, agreeing with everything he said and not arguing. But my parents had refused to listen to me, so I'd been beaten and then locked in my room without food for an entire day.
I'm not saying they didn't love me. I'm sure they did, in their own way, but I never got the proper form of parental love that I needed from them. Carlisle was more of a father and Esme more of a mother than my mother and father had ever been.
Emmett sat down on the sofa and pulled me down over his lap, so that my upper body was resting on the sofa and my legs were dangling in the air, not reaching the ground.
"Now Rose, I don't like spanking you because you've been an insufferable brat but if this is what it takes for me to make you behave then I shall. Because I love you. I care about you. I love you enough that if you need a thoroughly spanked bottom I shall ensure that you get one," he said, pulling my dress up.
That was the best and worst thing about Emmett's spankings, he started on the underwear.
The best because it didn't lure me into a false sense of how much it was going to hurt, because anytime I had been spanked by Jasper or Carlisle they started over your dress or jeans and then removed them, which made the sting of a spanking over underwear seem more painful in contrast with how it was over another layer. Edward spanked only over the outer layers and the underwear usually, though tonight it seemed as though ickle Bella was going to get a spanking on bare.
And it was the worst thing about Emmett's spankings because they hurt that much more that much sooner.
I bucked wildly as his hand started to land on my upturned rear.
Why did I push at him when I knew this was where I would end up?
"You know I'm doing this because of actions you've taken of your own free will, right Rose?"
"Y...Yes," I cried out, wriggling away from his hand to no avail, it found its target over and over again.
I loved Emmett, and he loved me. Why did I need him to spank me to make sure of that? I knew it. I knew he loved me; he never left me in any doubt that he loved me.
Sure, publically we would say stupid things and sometimes make out like everything was based only on sexual attraction between us, but it wasn't. Emmett was everything I needed, my own personal hero, my saviour.
I had never felt loved as a human, not by my parents, not by any man. And Emmett made sure that he told me every single night that he loved me. And I needed that. He never got tired of it, every night he would have his serious moment away from everyone else when he made sure that I knew that he loved me.
Even when he spanked me he always told me that the reason he was spanking me was because he loved me.
And I loved him. I needed him more than anything else.
I had once been told by a boy in school that he needed me more than the air he breathed, and though I was sure that he most certainly did not, it was an accurate description of how I felt about Emmett. Well, not that accurate given that I did not need to breathe, but the general meaning was the same. I needed Emmett more than anything else, more than I needed anything my existence depended on.
"You've been behaving like a spoilt little whiney brat, Rosalie Lillian," Emmett lectured me, bringing his hand down on my backside with every word, "And I am sick, tired and fed up with it!" SPANK SPANK SPANK.
I howled out, frantically rolling my hips around to try and escape him.
"Emmett! No! No more! I'll be good! I'll be good, I promise!"
"Yes, Mrs McCarty, you will be good, because if you're not good you're going to find yourself back in this position every night for a month, do you understand me?"
"Yes! Emmett please! Stop!"
"Rose – I shall decide when you've been punished enough that I'm going to stop and we are absolutely nowhere near that point yet, your behaviour has been atrocious! Abominable!" he shouted at me, delivering loud, firm, punishing swats on my already glowing backside before hooking his hands into the waistband of my underwear and pulling them down.
I winced, not at the fact that I was bare, I'd been spanked bare over Emmett's lap too many times to care that much about what I was exposing now, I was more concerned with how my backside felt rather than how it looked, but at the fact that he had shouted.
Although Emmett and I were serious when it was just the two of us, he never usually shouted. He had a naturally loud voice, which meant that if he was trying to make a point he didn't have to bother raising his voice to do it. I hated it when he shouted at me.
"I'm sorry," SPANK SPANK, "I didn't" SPANK "mean" SPANK "to" SPANK "shout." SPANK SPANK.
God, I loved him. But I deserved him to shout at me. I deserved him to abandon me. But he didn't.
I thrashed about. This hurt so much more on bare than on underwear. It was impossible that the pathetically small layer of midnight blue lace should give someone that much protection but what I wouldn't have given to get it back...
"Emmett... please..." I whined, but he ignored me and continued to bring his hand down on me again and again in a steady rhythm.
My rear had turned from cold and white to warm and pink to now being red and hot. Fiery hot. I cried, screamed, thrashed, pummelled the sofa with my fists but it was useless, he never stopped.
I finally gave up kicking and writhing when I kicked so hard that I managed to make my own foot collide with my sore bottom.
Emmett laughed quietly at me, and continued to spank me for another 10 minutes before the spanks turned to pats which turned to him rubbing sooth circles on me. I lay there, sobbing over his lap for a while before he pulled me from being over his lap to being on it, enveloped in his huge arms and held tight, my head tucked under his chin.
"Shh, baby," he soothed me, "It's all over now."
I said nothing but grabbed onto his shirt tighter. I need him. I needed him to hold me tight, to tell me that no matter what I had done it was fine now because I had been punished and he loved me regardless.
I thought back to one of the times my father had beaten me for not doing what he and my mother wished of me.
"You're a useless daughter Rosalie Hale!" he had screamed at me, bringing his belt down again and again as I lay face down on my bed, "You're not wanted here if you can't even do a simple thing like get a man to dance with you."
They didn't want me if I didn't get them what they needed. Emmett wanted me, no matter what. It was a miracle. I didn't deserve him. He should have walked out on me a long time ago, the way I acted sometimes. But he never did.
Eventually I stopped crying and then he sighed and carried me over to the corner.
"Stay there, 10 minutes," he said quietly in my ear before turning and starting to pick up the things I'd thrown.
"I should tidy up," I muttered from the corner, keeping my face pressed to the joining of the walls, but knowing that he could hear me.
"Its fine, I'll do it."
I didn't say anything. I didn't deserve him, but somehow I had gotten him. Somehow he was mine.
After my ten minutes were up Emmett pulled me down on the bed with him, kissing me lightly, telling me he loved me, and putting on Calamity Jane for me, despite the fact he hated it.
I smiled as I looked up at him between Doris Day's songs. I loved him. I didn't deserve him, but I loved him.
He caught me smiling up at him at one point and smiled back at me, bringing his mouth down to meet mine in a soft and gently kiss, not the usual full of passion and longing, lust and wanting type of kisses that we gave each other in bed.
"I love you, Rose," he whispered.
"I love you too, Emmett."
We spent the rest of the night in each other's arms, curled up on the bed, watching Calamity Jane and then moving on to Casablanca.
We didn't talk, we didn't move, we just held each other.
We didn't do anything, we just watched the film.
We would have probably stayed that way the majority of the next day (it was sunny again, and we weren't going to school) if Carlisle hadn't stuck his head round the door around 8am the next morning.
"Rosalie – can I have a word in my study please?"