It had only taken one spilled sippy cup of milk to convince him to invest in a used vehicle to transport his grandchildren. “It says spill-proof on the packaging,” he had sputtered.
Rosemary smirked. “What are you gonna do, Daddy? Sue the manufacturer of sippy cups?”
He had blustered, “Hell no, why fill the pockets of the lawyers when I can just buy the company and fire everyone?”
She had shaken her head and rolled her eyes at the time. But then, several weeks later, that brand of sippy cup had mysteriously disappeared off the shelves. The whole thing had given Rosemary the willies, reflecting on that kind of power. It haunted her enough that she convinced her daddy to offer all those laid-off people jobs with his company, which he eventually did.
On this day, though, it warmed her heart to watch the old man with her kids. She laughed at the thought of him taking them all for Happy Meals and shouting at them while they went apeshit all over the McDonald’s play area.
“Have fun!” she said with a wave as her daddy finally buckled himself in and the driver shifted into gear.
Her mother, Betsy, leaned across her husband in the captain’s chair and said, “Have fun! You two enjoy your time together. Go make me some more grandbabies, will you?” Betsy was beaming. She was the happiest grandmother anyone had ever seen. Lionel roared, half laughing, half horrified, “Oh God, please no more!”
Rosemary waved as they sped off down the long drive back to the main road. When the gates closed behind them, Rosemary turned tail up the front stairs and went inside, shut off the porch lights, and locked the massive double doors behind her. By God, nobody was going to interrupt this weekend alone with Ash.
As she made her way up the stairs to the master suite, she kicked a teddy bear off the landing that fell and landed on the piano, which itself was covered in blankets from a recent lesson in epic fort-making.
She pushed open the door of the bedroom, ready to strip down, shower, and dress in her new teddy. Not that Ash needed any encouragement. She removed her smartwatch and checked the time. She would have exactly ten minutes before Ash would get home from running errands. He was probably out to get her some espresso ice cream—always a necessity when taking a break for sustenance while on a weekend sexcapade.
But when she looked up, she thought briefly she had entered the wrong room. She took a beat. Nope, this was the right room. There was their bed. But, there, on the other end of the room, suspended from the ceiling, was a contraption she had never seen before.
Well, she had seen sex swings on the internet. She must have forgotten to erase her browser history because here, in front of her, was some version of one. It looked way more complex than she had expected. There were straps, buckles, harnesses—way more things going on than necessary. She moved forward and ran her hand over the accessories.
“Shit. He’s gonna get an extra spanking for this,” she muttered.
“Oh, no, baby girl.” Rosemary startled at the sudden sound of Ash’s voice behind her in the doorway. He was wearing a wicked grin and nothing else. “We are ’bout done with my discipline. It’s past time to get you under control.”
Rosemary cocked her head. “You know, in ten years we’ve never tried any crazy shit other than scarves and feathers and vibrators. This is not even a normal swing. This is some large, varsity shit, Ash. You sure you’re ready for this?”
Ash crossed his arms in front of him, taking a stance of authority. “Yes ma’am. It’s custom made. I had it shipped from Europe.”
“In five days?”
“It was super expensive, but I got it done, just for you. Let’s do this.”
Rosemary smiled. She liked it when he took charge like this. “Lemme just shower first, babe. I’m a mess from my run.”
But her man shook his head. “Nope. I want you salty.”
She was instantly wet at the thought of how much he preferred to take her dirty.
* * *
Moments later, Rosemary was naked and was sort of half-strapped into the swing, one leg on the floor. Confused and lost, she examined the other harness while Ash was reading the manual out loud to her in a language she did not know. Nothing seemed to make sense with this thing.
“Babe, I think my foot goes here,” she said, holding up a strap, “and my other hand goes over here,” she said, cocking her head to the side as she looked at a mysterious buckle at the end of another strap.
Ash grunted. “I don’t know, babe. I can only make out every third word of these directions. I should have stuck with German instead of quitting after half a semester.”
Rosemary stuck her other foot in a thing that looked like a stirrup and sighed with exasperation. “How did you manage to get it attached to the ceiling?”
Ash looked up, “I am a man with power tools, I can figure out how to bolt shit into walls and ceilings.”
“Ugh,” huffed Rosemary as she struggled with the various straps, stirrups, and harnesses. “Those screws are gonna leave a mark, so I hope you know how to replace drywall, too.”
Ash shrugged as he continued to stare at the manual. “The guys will help with that.”
Rosemary was trying to hoist her bottom into the main strap without losing her balance. “That will be cute. Invite the wolf pack over to fix the ceiling we fucked up with our sex toy.”
Ash,
