Sadist Apprentice

Husband and I don't like to show the heavy-duty D/s stuff around our kids; we don't think it's necessary, and we don't want them getting the "wrong idea".

On the other hand, we're pretty clear about the hierarchy around here; I run house and home, but Husband rules the roost, as they say, and he's got umbrella power over us all.
And once in a while, he likes to show me who's boss, even in front of the kids.
In a lighthearted way, of course.

Now and then.

We were out to lunch, me, Husband, and Son2. (He's fourteen years old now—not an adult, but not a kid anymore, either.) It was a buffet style place, and I had too much to eat.
We climbed back in the car, and Husband said, "We're definitely coming back here with the other kids."
"Oh God," I moaned, holding my belly. "If we do, I'm going to need some discipline holding myself back from that cheesecake."
We drove in silence for a minute.
"I know how to keep you away from the cheesecake," Husband said.
"How?" I asked.
"I can put a shock collar on you."
"HEY!"
"Every time you get close to it, bzzzt," he laughed, looking over his shoulder at Son2, who was smiling a little too broadly in my opinion.
"That is NOT NICE," I yelled.
"I could be more not nice," Husband said. "I could give the controls to Son2."
"Why," I moaned, "why would you say that in front of him? Why do you think my children would want to hurt their mother?"
"Cause it's fun?" Son2 said from the backseat.
"HEY!"
"No, but you're right, it would only be a little bit fun. Like, while you made noise."
"HEY!"
Husband started cackling. "Okay, okay, so maybe not a shock collar," he said when his laughter had died down a bit. "A spray bottle. We'll spray you with water instead. Pssst. Like a cat."
"You are not nice," I said again. "Not nice at all. And I know that given the chance, my children would never hurt me."
"No, see, Mom, there's a certain wrongness to fun ratio here," Son2 explained. "The shock collar is more wrong, and it's a jolt, so it probably wouldn't make you make a lot of noise. But the water bottle isn't painful, it only makes you a little bit wet, and you'd make a lot of noise. So I'd do the water bottle."
"HEY!"
"We'd fill it with ice water," Husband added, and started cackling again.
"You all hate me," I whined, pulling into our driveway. "My children hate me."
"I don't hate you Mom," Son2 said, giving me a little kiss on the cheek as he got out of the car. "You're just so entertaining when you yell."