Hot Cooking
Spanker
Wanted
By: Rachel Burns
Text Copyright © 2013 by Rachel Burns
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1 The Appointment
Chapter 2 The Golden Rule
Chapter 3 There is no Safety in Words
Chapter 4 Dear Diary
Chapter 5 Game Over
Chapter 6 Dependency
Chapter 7 His is the Final Word
Chapter 8 Escape
Chapter 9 It's A Man's Job to Pleasure His Wife
Chapter 10 Safe In His Arms
Chapter 11 What Are You Doing Here?
Chapter 12 You Have To Listen, No Matter Where We Are
Chapter 13 Meeting His Parents
Chapter 14 Losing You
Chapter 15 Broken Heart
Chapter 16 Pretending Not To Love You
Chapter 17 Premiere Night
Chapter 18 European Premiere
Chapter 19 You Can Bet On It
Chapter 20 Sweet Confrontation
Check Out Rachel Burns' Other Books
Chapter 1 The Appointment
I knocked on Ryan's door at the appointed time, but I had already changed my mind. I was going to tell him 'no' and leave. I wasn't brave enough for something like this. I flipped my long brown hair behind my shoulders and smoothed my dress down. My dress was flapping in the wind and my hair wouldn't stay out of my face.
I would just explain that I had changed my mind. He probably heard that a lot. Even the idea that someone could contact someone for something like this was ridiculous.
Of course, I had my reasons but they weren't the normal ones. I wouldn't have told him my real reasons for coming to see him anyway. I had just moved back to the states after living in Germany. I had worked as a translator, sitting in as the big deals were made, making sure that their was never a misunderstanding and feeling completely bored.
After such meetings I would go back to my tiny apartment and wonder about the people I had met. I had a feeling that most of them hated their jobs too. I wrote about them in my diary and sometimes I thought up lives for them and wrote them down. I had turned a couple of my imaginations into books. I had already sold two of them.
I decided to quit my job and move back to the states and write full-time. I had been writing about different things. I wanted to write in different areas. I liked books in all kinds of areas so that made sense to me. My agent said 'if they like something stick to it' but I didn't feel that I wrote books. It was more like they wrote themselves. I went where they took me.
The book that I had started, but rarely worked on, was okay but not believable. That was why I searched the net and found a lot of interesting stuff. Things kept getting in the way when I looked for domestic violence. Things about wife disciplining. I had gotten taken off track, finding about this whole new world. There were advertisements for people who wanted to be spanked by others, and for those who were looking to spank someone.
An idea had taken root back then. I thought maybe if I could feel pain I could better write about it. I had shaken my head at myself but the idea kept popping into my head. I had placed an advertisement myself. New in town looking for old fashioned, but gentle spanking from experienced man.
Ryan was the only one who had responded. His first question explained why no one else had answered. It was, 'you are a woman, right?'
I had felt so stupid then that I almost didn't e-mail him back. I found the courage to do so and to make this appointment but I was chickening out now. The idea of letting a man, any man, hit me was just so wrong. Only someone very sick would want that. Maybe someone who was abused as a child and who believed that to be loved you have to take a few knocks. I had had a rather boring childhood.
The door opened up and the world's most normal looking man was standing there. I had to shake myself. That was the worst way to describe someone. It was just that he looked so normal. I had expected something else. Maybe a leather jacket with steel spikes? I don't know but I hadn't expected the nice looking man in front of me.
I took a step back from him. “I am so sorry to have wasted your time and everything but – The thing is – Well, I mean I just can't. I'm sorry.” Yes this babbling came out of a woman who earns her living with words. I tucked my hair behind my ear again and peeked to see how he was reacting.
He smiled at me. He had a charming smile. He was blond with nice blue eyes. Never had I pictured a spanker to be blond or as young as he was. He was probably around thirty. He was so good looking.
He even looked kind and gracious. I couldn't imagine that he could raise his hand and hit anybody but that was the idea of my book. High schools sweethearts and the perfect husband surprises his wife with his secret beater side. It did fit.
I was turning to leave when he spoke, “Why don't you just step in and we can have a drink. Nothing more. I promise.” His kind eyes were smiling at me.
I was waiting for bells and whistles to go off in my head. Where were the warning bells? Apparently they had the day off. Nothing came. No little voices in my head saying 'Run!' and the hairs on the back of my neck all stayed put.
But good common sense kicked in. “I'm afraid not. Maybe you can still salvage some of your evening. Once again, I'm sorry.” I gave him a quick smile and turned to leave.
“I was just about to make myself a cup of coffee. I'd be happy to share with you. You could keep me company for a bit while I think of something to do with the rest of my evening.”
I looked back at him wide-eyed. He was trying not to laugh. He wasn't mad. I was even entertaining him.
I gave up. A quick cup of coffee before I left again would be nice. I thought I could come clean and interview him. That was better than actually getting hit and it would probably help me to make my story sound like I had first hand knowledge even if I didn't. I needed to describe the fear that my main character had for her husband, the person she loved most in the world. It wasn't right yet and I needed it to be. I wanted to help women get out of a bad situation. I wanted to give them courage. I wanted people to know that it still happened. It wasn't a page in a history book, but an actual problem that still existed.
One of the girls, I had gone to school with, suffered under her beater husband. He was so nice, no one would have guessed, but he had another side too. She wouldn't leave him. She loved him and he had such a tight hold on her financially that she couldn't leave even if she mustered up the courage to do so.
She had told me that I just didn't understand, but this was me, standing here in front of spanker guy, trying to understand. That sentence was the reason that the book was moving on at a snails pace because the truth was that I just didn't understand. Her husband was the bad guy, end of the story.
I stepped towards him as he held the door nicely for me. Was he pretending to be a gentleman or was he truly one? This guy would probably make for an interesting book too. He took my light coat and hung it up for me. He ushered me to his kitchen table like the waiter in a fine restaurant.
I sat down and looked up to him. He was smiling at me in a nice and friendly way. He didn't look at all cruel, bad to the core or anything like that. I had been imagining some bad stuff. He started in making the coffee. As a writer coffee was important to me. I needed it nights sometimes when I felt a story needed to be written quickly before an idea was forgotten. On those nights
I was up a long time. I needed coffee for that.
Ryan didn't talk to me at all as he worked which gave me a chance to look around. I took in the standard apartment kitchen and the packing boxes in the living room. He was obviously new in town too. “Was that why you responded to my add? I mean, because you are also new in town?”
“No, I had a feeling about you. I've lived in town for a while now. I just moved to this place to get away from noisy neighbors.”
I raised my eye at that. A spanker who liked it quiet. Would he have gagged me? That thought brought me back to business. This guy was dangerous no matter what he was pretending to be at the moment. I had to be on the look out. He had written that he supplied a service and that he was there to help me.
What woman fell for crap like that? Not me. This time he was being toyed with. I had switched the sides on him and he didn't even know it. That did give me some sort of satisfaction.
He set a coffee mug down in front of me. It was steaming hot. I had watched him to make sure that their was nothing extra in my mug. I would wait for him to take a real sip before I brought this wonderful smelling brew to my lips.
He took a sip right away. When he set his cup down about a fourth was missing. I also took a little sip. I wrapped my fingers around the warm mug, a habit of mine. It felt good on fingers that were tired from typing all day, and night.
I definitely wasn't getting enough sleep in lately. I had even debated that being a reason to be spanked.
He had written that he would need a reason for the spanking. He liked to lecture, he had written. That was hard to believe, he had barely spoken at all. He was just staring at me now.
I broke the stare and looked at my coffee. “You make a great cup of coffee. Thanks.”
“Glad to be of help. You must have been cold.” He smiled at me.
I looked at him confused.
“Your fingers, you look like you are warming them up on a campfire,” he grinned.
He was watching me and noticing little things. Who was this guy? He probably could even say what color my eyes were. Something my boyfriend didn't know after months of dating. That kind of freaked me out. He was different. Not the Mr. Nice Guy he had seemed to be a couple of minutes ago.
“I'm fine,” I answered him, picking up my coffee and taking a big gulp.
He was still watching me. His silence was giving me a lot of material. I was experiencing lots of different emotions as he watched me quietly. Fear was in there too. He wasn't as bulky as I had imagined, but he was stronger than me. I didn't have a chance against him.
He noticed that I was getting very uncomfortable. “I would never do anything you didn't want me to. Please, don't be afraid of me. You are safe with me, no matter what, I promise.”
“Do you do this often?”
He laughed lightly. “I believe in discretion. I won't answer that, just like I wouldn't have told anybody about you. Your reasons for coming to me are private. You could share them with me but I would never tell anyone, ever. This sort of thing is based on a lot of trust.
“Even if you would have said 'yes', I would have sat you down for coffee before anything else happened. I would have had to gain your trust first. If I couldn't achieve that this evening then maybe the next time. I would have waited for you to feel safe with me first. I think that is important.” The last sentence he said to himself. I had a feeling he meant it. He did have a nice guy quality to him. Sort of a Damsel in Distress helper feeling that he was giving out.
“How would you have – gone about it.” I was always surprised that I always knew the perfect thing to say when I was sitting at my laptop but, never in real life.
He smiled and looked away for a second before his eyes returned to me. “You mean after I had gained your trust?”
I nodded quickly. I really wanted to hear his answer.
“I would have sat down on the sofa and called you to me. I would have started in lecturing you on what you were being punished for. Then, I would have asked you to lay over my lap. I would have started in spanking with my hand. Then I'd lecture some more. I seriously do want to help you change your ways, and become a better person. Then I would have lifted up your skirt or dress and continued to spank. After a bit I would have pulled down your underwear.”
My eyes widened and then I thought 'here's what's in this for him'.
He responded to my eyes. “There are a few reasons for that. The first is so I can see how you are taking it. Some women bruise easier than others. It isn't my intention to actually harm you. The second reason is because it hurts more, a lot more. It's more effective.”
“I can't imagine that that would make that much of a difference.” I had leaned in to him, and my voice sounded like I was accusing him of something.
“You'll just have to take my word for it.” He gave me a cocky smile.
“Is there another reason?”
“Yes, there actually is, but I can't tell you about that.”
“I see.” I was pretty sure that I knew what reason that was. The Germans have a saying for that: The eye eats along. It gave him something to see, more than just a woman's bottom.
“I think you are getting the wrong impression. Let me just put it this way. Some women are just here to use me for other needs that aren't disciplinary. We would never have that kind of relationship.”
“Then what do you get out of it?”
“I kind of like to spank.” He made a look like he was remembering a previous spanking with some poor woman. “And I'd rather that women come to me then go to someone else who could hurt them. That was why I replied to your add. You seemed so vulnerable. I didn't want anyone to hurt you.” He looked sincere. I believed him. He thought of himself as a knight in shining armor.
“Tell me more about the – procedure.” Coherent sentences just weren't coming out of me.
Ryan smiled at the change of topic. Most guys didn't notice things like that. He wasn't a man who could be put off course without knowing it.
“That would depend on you, a lot. I would watch how you were reacting to things. If I judged my hand to be enough I would stick with it. If not I would use something that would better get your attention and help bring you to the point where you were truly remorseful. I have a feel for that. Don't worry about it. Again I can see what I am doing so I would be able to judge what is too much. I would listen to what you would be telling me too.”
“I would have been expected to talk?” I had the woman in my book gulping for air and unable to speak at all.
“As a rule of thumb, if you can't talk then it was too much. Your talking to me, helps me know where you are in the spanking, and whether or not you are okay.”
“What would I have had to do to get you to stop?”
“That's easy, either by you having learned your lesson, or if you say your safe word.”
I had read about those in internet, but I wanted him to explain what it meant to him. I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
“What a safe word means to me.” He gave me a big smile as he said that, like he was reading an essay in front of a whole class. “First, I would let you pick one. It has to be something that doesn't fit in to what we are talking about. You couldn't pick out something like 'chocolate bar' if the reason for the spanking was to lose weight.” His shoulders were shaking a little but he was trying not to laugh.
I thought about that. A spanking to lose weight. I did have a couple of pounds to lose. In fact, I had already lost a couple before coming here. I didn't want to be embarrassed by my weight as I laid over his lap. I was sure that a woman getting beaten didn't worry about earthly things like that. Her life would be more important.
“What would you have wanted me to spank you for?” Finally he was using the subjunctive or 'what if' form. I had noticed from his language that he had thought that he could change my mind. I was glad that he had given up on that. These were the little things I had been paid to listen for as a translator. People are usuall
y straight forward and tell you what they mean if you know how to listen for it.
I smiled at him, rewarding him for giving up, and because I had had to rack my brain to think up something worthy of being spanked for. It wasn't just my childhood that had been boring. I had come up with two, over achiever that I was. “I tend to drive too fast. I've got a bit of a lead foot, you could say. I have never gotten a ticket but it could only be a matter of time. I'm surprised my luck had held this long. I am a very good driver and I'm not being unsafe. I have great brakes, and I make sure they stay that way.”
He looked a little mad at me.
I was unsure as I continued. “And the other thing is I am a little on the sarcastic side. I'm a bit of a big mouth.”
That had him smiling again. “What effect does that have on others?”
“It isn't quite a problem yet but it is something I don't like about myself. I'm typically one of those people who can dish it out but can't take it themselves. I never say anything when someone hurts my feelings. I just go home, and think about it. There is usually a lot truth in sarcasm. I try to better myself but I don't want anyone else to go home, and feel bad about themselves because of something I said, usually in haste.” I nodded at the truth in my words. That was something I actually did want to change about myself.
I was opening up to him. Why was he having that effect on me? I felt bad about myself just then. I could feel my forehead wrinkling together as I thought about past times when I had hurt others with my words. “I don't want to be like that and no one deserves to be talked to like that.”
I was pouring out my soul to him. He should work as a psychiatrist. He would just need one of those sofas, but he would use it in a different way.
“I understand now. Those are the two things you want to change about yourself?”
“I guess so, but it doesn't matter anymore. It was just an idea, and not my best. I really am sorry for wasting your time.” I finished my coffee thinking that I had learned a lot.
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