The silence in the compartment hit like a ton of bricks as a dangerous whirlpool seemed to swirl in Remington's eyes.
"What did you just call me? Say that again!"
Lizetta used to call him “Remi” all the time. But after that night, he forbade her from calling him that.
Marriage was supposed to be the epitome of equality, yet this was the first time Lizetta addressed him by his name. How ironic and sad.
Lizetta faced his icy glare, her pale lips trembling as they parted, her voice crystal clear despite the nerves.
"I said, Remington Dashiell, let's get a divorce."
As soon as the words left her mouth, everything went black before her eyes, followed by two loud slaps.
By the time Lizetta realized what happened, she was sprawled across Remington's lap, her rear end smarting from two firm spanks that he had delivered with real force.
Frozen in disbelief, Lizetta was a cocktail of shame and anger, "Let me go! Remington, you jerk! What gives you the right to hit me, mmph!"
Lizetta struggled and kicked only to receive even more forceful spanks in return.
The pain in her butt brought back memories of the last time she got a spanking - when she was fifteen and developing fast, so she bound her chest tightly with cloth, not out of shame but for fear her dancing wouldn't look good if she grew too large.
Remington discovered her secret after over a month, and after getting scolded by the doctor for the hard lumps that formed, she ended up over the arm of the sofa in the study getting her rear end swelled up.
The pain in her chest and butt was so bad she had to lie on her side for days, walking around like a zombie, mercilessly mocked by him.
Spanking was his way of teaching his little sister a lesson, but she was no longer his little sister.
"Lizetta, use your brain to think before you speak! Do you think marriage and divorce are some kind of joke?" His warning voice boomed above her, "Tell me! Where are the earrings?!"
Remington sneered, knowing just how much she treasured that pair of earrings. He was also well aware of how much she relished being called “Mrs. Dashiell”.
Now she was casually saying she lost them and wanted a divorce - did he look like someone who would buy that?
"I lost them! Are you getting deaf in your old age?!"
"Fine, Lizetta, you'd better hope I don't find them!"
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