by Fiona Wilde
I shut off my engine and got out. It was warm and the gravel crunched under my feet as I walked into the unit. My ex was muttering to himself as he wedged boxes of art supplies in a corner. Apparently the graphic art gig still wasn't paying off. In the dim light of the unit, I could see that he hadn't shaved, and his face bore the beginnings of a rough beard.
"Hello, Mark," I said. "With that new look you look a lot like you did in your '97 mug shot."
It was satisfying to see him nearly jump out of his skin at the sound of my voice.
He stood up, studying me.
"From one convict to another, I'll take that as a compliment," he said. "Congratulations on not getting sent to the slammer, Sweet Cheeks. I check the court records every day and was a little disappointed to see you just got probation. I rather liked the thought of you getting held a tongue bath by some bull dyke cellmate."
"Tell me, Mark," I asked. "What in the world did I ever do to you to make you hate me like you do?"
"I don't hate you anymore than I hate anyone else," he said. "I just never loved you. Business is business. You were just another easy payday."
"What was just another easy payday to you has wrecked my life," I said. "And apparently I'm not the first. Don't you have a conscience?"
"Not really," he said. "I actually enjoy my work, especially my time fleecing you. It's not every day you get to soak a hot working woman who also lets you spank her ass. I'll have fond memories of you to enjoy on my bus ride to points north. I hear Canada is full of naive women, and this whole bondage dating scene has opened up a whole new world of possibilities."
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I realized that this man was a stranger indeed. I saw no remorse, no regret for what he'd done. When I walked into the storage unit and discovered Kevin/Mark inside, I'd thought I might be able to talk some sense into him to convince him to come clean with the authorities, for my sake, for the sake of anything he ever felt for me. Now I knew that would never happen.
"Sorry I bothered you," I said, and walked back to my car and noticed as I did the rear of his beat-up Volvo sticking out from behind the storage unit.
"I wonder..." I thought, and walked over to the car. It was too good to be true. There, in the ignition, were the keys. Quietly I opened the driver's side door, removed the keys and locked the doors.
Then I ran back to my car and punched Landry's number into my cell phone. He answered on the third ring.
"Landry here."
"Landry, it's Lauren," I said.
"Lauren, where are you? I thought I told you to go home. I hear cars. Are you on the interstate?"
"Actually, I'm just pulling onto the interstate - Interstate 9. I just left the U-STORE-IT." I paused and took a deep breath. "I've got Mark Plumber. He's in storage unit 37. And he's going to be here for a while."
"And how do you know that, young lady?" he asked icily.
"Because I stole his car keys," I said.
"You stole his car keys?" Now I knew what my probation officer sounded like when he was angry.
"I'm sorry. It was the only way," I said. "He's leaving for Canada tonight. I was afraid you'd miss him and I'd never get my name cleared."
"Alright, Lauren," he said. "We'll take it from here. But I want you to go straight home, or I'll send a car for you as well. For breaking probation."
"Breaking probation?" my voice was shrill. "How have I broken probation?"
"Stealing a man's car keys is theft. Now we'll talk about this later. Right now you just get back to your apartment. I'll be by later tonight and you need to know right up front that I am not pleased with you for disobeying me."
He hung up then, without saying goodbye, and I worried all the way back to the apartment. I'd defied Landry, this was true. But it was all in a quest to clear my name. To be sure he would understand.
The next five hours were hell - sheer hell. Landry couldn't be reached at the office and my imagination ran all sorts of scenarios - his catching my-ex and Mark/Kevin convincing him that we'd really had been in on it together, Mark/Kevin shooting Landry or his cousin. True, a firearms charge was the one thing my ex did not have on his record, but there's a first time for everything. The other scenario had Mark/Kevin hitching a ride to the bus station and fleeing without being found.
At 7 o'clock there was a knock on my door. It was Landry.
"Come with me," he said.
I didn't hesitate or ask questions, simply got into his car and rode with him across town.
"What happened?" I asked.
"We got him," Landry said. "He was where you said he was, at the storage unit. When Frank and his partner pulled up, your ex made a beeline for his car. Of course, as we both know -" he looked at me with irritation "-the keys were gone and the doors were locked."
He took off and Frank and Bob gave chase. They caught him near the back when he failed to scale a chain link fence. There was a scuffle and Bob got a broken nose. So your old boyfriend is sitting in county jail with two new charges - fleeing arrest and assault on an officer. When I left he was trying to cut a deal with the public defender, something about coming clean and clearing a woman's name in exchange for a reduced sentence."
"Do you think he really will?" I asked cautiously.
"I don't think he has a choice but to play every card he has," Landry said. "He's in a whole heap of trouble."
He turned to me. "But so are you."
"What?" I felt like I was going to cry. "Are you going to have me sent to jail for breaking probation?"
We'd pulled up in front of a brick bungalow on the outskirts of town, a modest but nice house with a shady, neat yard and a vintage, well-restored pickup in the driveway. The bumper sticker on the truck said, "Semper Fi."
"No, I'm going to allow you to cut a deal, Lauren," Landry said as he cut off the engine. "You can either go to jail, or accept a spanking from me."
My knees went weak. Not from excitement but from dread that I dredged far below my submissive core. This was more of the type of fear that I'd felt when my father had whipped off his belt when I was seven years old. Ethan Landry was no Mark Plumber, and the punishment he was having me choose wasn't about sexual fun and games.
My throat went dry. "Is there a third option?"
"No," he said. "Take it or leave it, Lauren. What you did was brave, but reckless. Plumber could have killed you, or fled when he saw you coming. As it is he was agitated when Fred and his partner arrived, and that's part of the reason Bob got hurt. Beyond that, you disobeyed me. I told you to go back to your apartment. If we're going to be together, you're going to have to do as you're told."
"Together?" I asked.
"Don't pretend what I'm feeling isn't mutual," he said. "I sensed something the first day you walked into my office, Lauren, and I'm too focused on what I want to play games. Am I wrong?"
"No," I admitted. "I've thought about you a lot. Well, all the time. But my being the way I am makes me a handicap, at least that's what I've always thought."
"The way you are makes you a treasure," Landry said. "You're just want I'm looking for, but you need to know the rules, and the first rule is that you do as you're told. Now get into the house."
Ethan Landry used the well-worn wooden paddle that had belonged to his father. My fright was obvious upon seeing it, but he ignored my whimpering pleas for mercy as he turned me face-down over his broad thighs, trapped my arms and tilted me forward until my bottom was jutting at an accessible angle. My upper body was resting on his couch and I could turn my head and kick my feet, but other than that I was completely immobilized as he began the spanking.
I realized I'd had every right to be fearful. The burning pain of the unrelenting wood was nothing like I'd ever experienced and I wailed a litany of apologies until they melted into ragged sobs. Through it all, Landry never let up; the paddle rose and fell with steady popping sounds on first one cheek then another until my body went limp in the Spanked Woman's Universal Sign of Total Submission.
That night I slept on the bed in his guest room, my bottom aching from the spanking and my body aching for him. But it would be another three weeks before we would have sex, consummating our relationship on the day I went before Judge Murphy, who threw out the charges against me in the face of overwhelming evidence.
A month later, Landry quit his job and opened his own home security system business. I went to work for him and we are - as the cliche goes - planning to live happily ever after. Which we will now that I have been reminded - both by real life and by Landry's paddle - the consequences of breaking the law.
The End
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This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
