“We’re done,” I say, when the final box has been unpacked.

“I think we’ve earned a drink,” Parker replies, as he wraps his arm around me.

“We’ve barely lifted a finger. We paid movers to do it all for us.”

“It was still stressful. I had to google ‘home movers,’ email them, pay the bill. It’s exhausting stuff.”

“Screw it, why not?”

Parker pours two glasses of wine from the bottle that the sellers left behind for us as part of the welcome package and we relax on the sofa in front of a television that isn’t yet hooked up to the cable or internet.

“I should call Marie,” I say. “Tell her she can bring the kids back.”

“Or… we could pretend that we’re still unpacking for a few more hours.”

“That would be mean.”

“Marie loves looking after Olivia and Charlie.”

“Two more hours,” I reply. “Then we phone her.”

This is nice. We don’t get much alone time these days, and when we do, we have to arrange it in advance. It’s a little weird to drop the kids off with Aunty Marie when she knows full well I’m about to spend the evening getting my ass spanked and being degraded.

There’s no ‘room’ in this house. We thought about turning one of the spare rooms into something exciting, but Olivia’s getting older and it’s going to be harder and harder to explain why Mommy and Daddy have a locked room that she’s not allowed to go in.

We still play, of course. We kept a lot of the toys, but they’re hidden away in our bedroom now. I’m not able to swing from the ceiling while Parker fucks me, but it’s not exactly dull either. We’re still more active than most couples if the shocked look on the face of our mover was anything to go by. We did tell him not to open that box.

“Why don’t you take tomorrow off work?” Parker asks. “The four of us could go to the beach.”

“I can’t,” I reply. “I’m far too busy.”

“I’m starting to wish I never sent Kelsie your script.”

“Oh please, you love being a stay-at-home dad.”

“True. But it would be nice to see you a little more often.”

“I have three months off work when this season is finished. You’ll be sick of the sight of me.”

I never did sell my script. Not directly, anyway. One night while working late with Sergio, we got talking about the movie I wrote and he asked to read it. Six exhausting months later and Netflix bought the rights to a television series based on the two main characters, Amber and Clyde. They loved the script, but thought it would work better as a ten episode series where the characters have time to fully develop. I went in to the meeting prepared to shoot them down, but came out completely convinced.

Netflix gave me a top level position with sign-off on the scripts and a say in casting choices. My influence wasn’t enough to get Tami in the lead role—she lacked the experience—but she did get the role as the best friend of Amber. The best friend is often concerned that Amber is going too far with the submissive role and warns her to be safe. It’s a role Tami was born to play.

The characters aren’t mine any more. The screenplay I wrote needed a lot of additional backstory and character development to stretch over ten episodes—with the potential for a second season, of course—so plenty of other writers have chipped in. It’s still weird seeing the characters I created all those years ago finally coming to life in front of me.

One of the scenes I wrote is being filmed with barely any changes—the steamy sex scene where Amber gets into the submissive role and takes her punishment for the first time. The lead writer congratulated me on the scene and said it felt ‘authentic and believable.’ I could barely keep a straight face. It’s being filmed next week. The actors are currently undergoing training on how to do safe spanking. I love my life.

We finish our glasses of wine and make the most of the completely distraction-free environment. Neither of us so much as looks at our phones. Occasionally I wonder whether life would be better if I didn’t have my phone on me all the time. Then I remember that I like playing Candy Crush Saga on the toilet.

“Let’s go to bed,” Parker says suddenly, snapping me out of my daze.

“I’m not tired. And there’s the minor issue of the kids coming home later.”

“We’re not going to sleep. Let’s christen the bed.”

Parker has that mischievous look in his eye. Sex of any kind could not have been further from my mind a few hours ago, but one look at Parker and it’s all I can think about.

We head upstairs to our new bedroom, which has a brand new bed for good measure. We’ve unpacked most of our toys, although they’re all tucked away in drawers.

“Go into the bathroom,” Parker commands. “Come out in five minutes’ time wearing only your underwear. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I reply. It’s been too long since we played, and with the big scene coming up next week, it’s a good idea for me to get some practice in.

I strip down to my mismatched and not-at-all-flattering underwear. Parker never cares. If anything, it fits the mood better. I’m not supposed to be a sultry seductress. I’m a normal woman, doing as my man commands. I’m wet just thinking about it.

The five minutes drag but finally, it’s time to step out of the bathroom.

Parker is standing by the bed, still fully dressed. That’s not unusual. He tends to stay dressed for long periods until he’s finished doling out his punishment. The punishment tonight involves a leather whip which he’s already holding menacingly in his right hand.

I wait by the bathroom door for my instructions.

“Stand here,” he commands, pointing to the space in front of him.

I do as he says without hesitation. It comes naturally now, although I suppose it always did.

Parker caresses my body, his hand running over my breasts and then reaching around to my ass for a quick squeeze. He’s warming it up to ensure I can handle the whip.

“Hold this,” he says, passing me the whip. I’m not usually allowed to hold the toys, but I take it anyway, my desire to obey stronger than my curiosity.

“What do you think of the whip?” he asks.

I frown. It’s one of my favorites. We’ve used it plenty of times, so it’s a bit late to be asking me if I like it.

“Look closer,” he says, spotting the confusion on my face.

I run the whip through my fingers, caressing the leather as my heart races in anticipation of it cracking down on my bare flesh.

Then my fingers hit something. A gold band is lodged in place halfway down the whip. When I twist the whip, the gold band turns to reveal a large diamond.

“You’d usually be on your knees right now,” Parker says softly. “But today it’s my turn.”

I hear Parker drop to his knees in front of me, but all my energy is focused on sliding the ring off the whip. It’s a tight fit, but eventually, it comes free.

“Carly Wicks, we’ve had a lot of fun over the past four years. I want a lifetime of that. Will you marry me?”

I nod my head while fighting back the tears. We hadn’t planned for this. We’ve had a child, but agreed that marriage didn’t matter so long as we were a family.

My hands are shaking so Parker stands up and slides the ring onto my finger.

“Would you have preferred the ring to be in the box?” Parker asks.

I shake my head, still not sure if I’ll be able to speak words.

“This seemed appropriate,” Parker continues. “I did think about recreating the first night we met, but I couldn’t track down that couple.”

I laugh, and this time attempt to speak through the tears. “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to tell Tami.”

“Don’t forget your parents. They’ve been hinting enough.”

“I’ll give them a censored version.”

Parker smiles, and examines the ring on my hand. I’m already in love with it. I go grab my phone from the bathroom and dial Tami’s number.

“What are you doing?” Parker asks, his face turning serious. “We’re not finished here yet.”

I cancel the call and throw my phone to the floor. “Sorry, sir.”

“Bend over, Mrs. Kaye. It’s time for your punishment.”

---

THE END