Free Treasured Submission by Maggie Ryan

though a man considered her a treasure. Tearing her thoughts away from that path, she flipped to the next page.
    Only an urgent need to visit the bathroom had her closing the book. Walking back into the house, Abby absently wondered how popular this way of life really was. According to the book, domestic discipline had been in practice since the beginning of time and was now finding its way back into many homes. If last night's audience was any indication, it was far more popular than she would have believed. Russell had said he and his wife had been living their entire lives practicing the lifestyle, and, well, the other attendees certainly seemed anxious to learn everything they could about the subject.
    Without conscious thought, she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, her mind occupied with thoughts about what she had read. As she waited for the old pipes to deliver hot water to the shower, she used the bathroom and then stripped off her pajamas. With a soft giggle, she turned to look over her shoulder at her butt. She might be nearly thirty-five, but she thought she was in pretty good shape, her bottom nicely rounded—well, perhaps a trifle too rounded for her taste.
    Standing naked in front of the full-length mirror, Abby really studied herself for the first time in a long time. She was a rather petite woman, standing at a little over five feet. Though not fat, she thought she could stand to lose a few pounds if she were being totally honest with herself. Her breasts were on the smallish side but were firm and tipped with dusky pink nipples that were even now puckered tightly as she critically examined herself. Her stomach was a little rounder than it had been in her youth, but she smiled thinking it was a price she would willingly pay in order to really enjoy life's culinary delights. Looking at her backside, she wondered how the pale skin compared to either Elaine or Karen's. Were their butts still red and swollen, or had they recovered and gone back to being as pale as hers? She decided that while Elaine's bottom was probably recovered, the wheals from the cane were still probably visible across Karen's cheeks. After all, the previous strokes had been evident from her earlier canings before Russell added new lines to her rear.
    Rubbing her hands over her unmarked flesh, Abigail stepped into the shower and purred as the hot water poured over her body. After lathering her body with her favorite body wash, she washed her hair and then flipped the lever to stop the shower flow, her action causing the water to now pour from the tub spigot. Taking a seat on the edge of the tub, she shaved her legs, deciding that today she might as well give herself some much needed attention. Once she was done, she wrapped a fluffy towel around her wet body before drying her hair.
    After dressing in a pair of shorts and a blue t-shirt, she opened the cabinet containing her cosmetics and chose a color. She then spent several minutes carefully applying a deep red polish to both her fingernails and toenails, unable to remember the last time she had done so. Recapping the bottle, she looked up and smiled at her reflection. "Guess those women made you want to remember how it feels to feel feminine—at least a little bit," she said to the woman in the mirror. Gingerly sliding her feet into flip-flops, she returned to the kitchen.
    Pouring her third cup of coffee, she picked up the mug carefully, not wanting to disturb her polish until it was dry. Though she saw the book on the table, she did not open it for fear of smudging her nails. Instead, she allowed her mind to drift back to what she had already read.
    Dean was a very good writer. His style allowed the reader to feel as if he were speaking directly to him or to a group of friends. Clear, yet not overly detailed descriptions were used to set the stage for each of the points he asked his reader to consider. Looking down at the photo of him which graced the back cover of the