by Jane Henry
A Thousand Yesses
By
Jane Henry
©2016 by Blushing Books® and Jane Henry
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Henry, Jane
A Thousand Yesses
eBook ISBN: 978-1-68259-429-2
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design
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 Blushing Books' or the Author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
About Jane Henry
Ebook Offer
Blushing Books Newsletter
About Blushing Books
Chapter One
“You guys have no idea how hard it is to find a decent Dom these days. No. Idea.” Celia threw back her gin and tonic in one fell swoop. She waved down the waitress as she clashed her glass on the table. “Get me another,” she said.
Maverick frowned at her. If ever a girl needed a Dom, it was Celia. She was a firecracker, that one, five foot two inches of pure fire, with flaming red hair to match her temper, and brown eyes that warmed and heated before one could finish taking a breath. She was rocking a kickass body she’d honed to perfection in the gym, and had just earned her double masters in business administration. The girl had her shit together.
She also swore like a truck driver, drove recklessly, drank too much when she was pissed, and was known to hit the carbs hard when she was moody. She was like a sister to Maverick and Rodney, who’d known her since they were teens. Still, it pained Maverick to see her so desperately in need of being taken in hand.
“Easy on that liquor, sweetheart,” Rodney murmured. “I can’t take you home tonight. And I think you’ve worn out your ‘free rides from Maverick’ card.”
Rodney, Maverick’s best friend, tall and lithe, put together but in a classy “boy next door” kind of way, was waiting for his fiancée Louanne, and wouldn’t be in the position of taking Celia home if she had too much to drink. Celia was normally careful with how she drank, but Maverick suspected this was one of those nights.
She hadn’t worn out her free ride card. She never would, Maverick knew, anymore than he’d stop holding the door in the supermarket for little old ladies, or stop shoveling his mom’s walkway when it snowed. Maverick would take Celia home come hell or high water. Still, he was in no mood to deal with her sass tonight either.
He wanted to hear her latest story, so he sat quietly, nursing his Guinness, enjoying the bitter, bold taste as he trained his eyes on Celia. Sitting back, Celia fingered the condensation on the outside of her glass.
“I met the latest one at a coffee shop in town,” she said. Maverick saw Celia’s eyes go to his before he realized he was growling low. He hated when she’d have a meet-up with Doms she met online, even if she did it in a public place, so she’d stopped telling Maverick until after the event. But she was a big girl, and he couldn’t control how she behaved.
“Down, boy.” She frowned. “It was a public place and we talked on the phone before we met.”
“You have no idea who half these bastards are,” Rodney countered. “Jesus, Celia.”
“Let her tell her story,” Maverick ordered. Rodney nodded and sat back.
Celia sighed with a grateful nod to Maverick.
“First, it was freezing cold. Like fah-reezing out.” Wintertime in upper state New York was no joke, and Maverick well knew how cold it was. He waited patiently for her to continue.
“And this dipshit meets me outside. In the cold,” she said again for emphasis. “I was coming home from work, so it was a long drive, and I’d taken my coat off and left it in the car. I came out, and he’s there, driving this beat-up hunk o’ junk, and he practically pounces on me. I tell him hi, and he takes my hand – I wasn’t even ready for him to touch me – and then I tell him, ‘I’m cold; I want to get my coat,’ and he gets all impatient and says, ‘Whatever. Fine, get your coat then.’” She took another sip from her glass. Maverick felt his hackles rise. On the one hand, he wanted Celia to tell him these stories, because he didn’t want her to hide from him. On the other, he wished she wouldn’t, as it inevitably left him with a desire to beat the losers to a pulp, and he rarely had the opportunity to satisfy his desires.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
She shook her head. “And it was all downhill from there. Before I’d even gotten my eggs, he practically had his tongue down my throat, and by the time my pancakes came, he was trying to get me back to his place. You guys tell me. Don’t you think a real Dom needs to establish trust first, before he jumps into bed?”
“Hell yeah,” Rodney said, his eyes narrowing. “Really, Celia, why do you even meet up with these losers?”
“And who told you to eat pancakes?” Maverick said. Celia was sensitive to wheat, and wasn’t supposed to eat that shit.
Her eyes flashed at him as she put her hands flat on the table.
“See? I. Want. A. Dom.” She leaned forward, her lips pursed together. “I’ve tasted vanilla, and to me? It’s bland. Blah. I don’t like it. I want someone strong enough to take me in hand, and put me in my place, and shit, Rodney, with all due respect to those who play at it in bed, I want a man who means what he says and backs it up. You guys have no idea,” she said, and to Maverick’s surprise, her voice caught at the end. “I fantasize about a man strong enough to take me on. When I lose my shit, he’d take me over his knee and set me to rights. When I get wrapped up in a client and I’m up ‘til the crack of dawn, I want him to come in and tell me to go to bed. I want to be stopped when I eat the entire carton of rocky road because I’ve got PMS. And I need a guy who will tell me no, don’t order the pancakes, just because they look good, because you know you’ll be sick all weekend over it! This isn’t about fucking kink or goddamned sex. I want the real deal.”
Maverick understood. She didn’t even need to explain to him. Still, he dropped his voice when he spoke to her. She was spiraling out of control.
“You do,” he said softly, but firmly. She watched him, as he continued. “You need someone to tell you you’re not having anymore to drink tonight, to watch your language and act like a lady.” There was steel in his words, and he knew she felt it. She merely nodded.
“Did you hear me, Cel?” he said. “You’ve had enough to drink tonight, and watch your language.”
“I know, I know,” she sighed wearily. She didn’t even protest as he took her nearly empty glass and pulled it away.
“But Maverick,” she said. “If they’re out there, I can’t find them. I’ve tried and tried, and it’s like finding a fu— a freaking needle in a haystack.”
Rodney’s hand waved as Louanne entered the room. Louanne was pleasantly plump, freckled, and sweet. She liked Celia, but the girls were like night and day. Whereas Celia liked dancing, and drinking, Louanne was quieter and domestic. Celia was all flash and glitter, but Louanne was cute and wholesome.
“Hi, guy
s,” she said in her soft voice. “What’s going on?”
Celia waved dismissively. “Oh, I’m just having my typical Monday Meltdown about my inability to find a Dom worth his salt,” she said.
Louanne giggled. Although she wasn’t interested in being a submissive, she well knew her friends’ proclivities, and happily played with Rodney on occasion.
“Did you meet another loser?” she asked sympathetically. When Celia nodded, Louanne reached out and squeezed her hand. “Aw, honey, I’m sorry,” she said. “I know the right guy’s out there for you.”
“Well, if you find him, point him my way.” Celia sighed. “I don’t think I have it in me to navigate the single sub waters anymore.”
“Good,” Maverick and Rodney said in unison.
Celia looked at them warily.
“Well, you don’t have to gang up on me,” she muttered. She reached for her glass to take another sip, but Maverick shook his head at her.
“No more.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” she grumbled. He sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes at her. She might not be his submissive, but she well knew he wouldn’t tolerate her lip.
“Nope,” he said. “I’m not. If I were, you’d have been over my knee three times already.”
Louanne blushed. “Really, Maverick!” she hissed. “People will hear.”
He looked at her incredulously. “Like I care?” he said. He turned back to Celia. “Keep it up, and you’ll walk home,” he said, “even if I won’t spank you.”
She frowned, though she knew she was defeated.
“Fine,” she sighed, mumbling under her breath. “No fair you guys know how to do this but nobody else does.” She crumpled into her chair and her shoulders drooped. Suddenly, she sat straight up and her eyes widened.
“You guys!” she said. Maverick grew wary. He could tell already she was getting one of her ideas.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I just had a brilliant idea!” she said. Her hands went flat out on the table in front of her and her eyes were glowing. “Brilliant!”
Rodney nodded. “Spill,” he said.
“You two can start a business!” she said. “You can teach guys how to be Doms!”
Rodney was already shaking his head. “Celia, I don’t think—”
“Hear me out!” she interrupted. He sighed, and nodded, but Maverick just listened. He was curious.
“You start with podcasts, a YouTube channel, stuff online,” she said. “I’m telling you guys, these losers think it’s all about smack, smack, smack and getting off. They don’t really know how to do it. It’s like there’s this gap between what girls want and what these guys are willing to do.” She paused and looked at Rodney. “Do you have any idea how much money you could make?”
His eyes gleamed. With a wedding to save for, he was very interested in knowing how much money he could make.
“You guys, it’s perfect!” she crooned. “With Rodney’s skills, and Maverick’s looks, you guys would be a huge hit! You can post links to your videos online, and charge guys by the hour, or session, or something.”
“Gee, thanks, Cel,” Rodney muttered.
Celia rolled her eyes. “I don’t mean you don’t look nice. You do. But you know that. I mean that Maverick is the one that looks like a Dom.”
“That was supposed to make me feel better?”
Maverick frowned at her.
“See?” Celia said to Rodney, as if Maverick’s reaction was proving her point. “Totally Dom.”
He shook his head. Yeah, he was tall, a big guy, and muscular, with longish dark hair graying at the temples, a heavy beard, and dark eyes. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, and was a serious guy by nature.
“He frowns and scowls, and makes submissives go aquiver.”
He shook his head at her.
“You’re just proving my point,” she muttered, looking longingly at the drink glass he wouldn’t let her touch.
“I don’t know about this,” Maverick said. “It sounds weird. I mean, do guys who want to be Doms really want to learn how to dom, anyway? I wouldn’t want some asshole telling me how to pull hair, or use a paddle, or how to hold a girl over my knee. Uh uh. If I didn’t know how to do all that stuff, I’d figure it out on my own.”
“Give me my drink,” Celia said, glaring at him.
“No,” he said back, arms crossed on his chest.
“So I have to sit here and listen to you say paddle and over my knee and I can’t have a drink?”
“That’s right, princess.”
She hated when he called her princess, but she was pushing too far.
“I’m in,” Rodney said. “Totally. That would be a blast.”
Louanne giggled. “What kinds of things would you do?”
“Oh, the possibilities are endless!” Celia said, shooting one final glare at Maverick. Maybe she could use a spanking. He shook his head as she continued. “How to use restraints, and how to set rules. Things like that, you know? And even if the guys who want to Dom wouldn’t watch the videos, you can guarantee yourself the girls will.”
Rodney turned to Maverick. “You know you could use the extra income.”
Maverick sighed. He could. He’d recently moved back into his mother’s house. After a bout with a stroke and finally, a heart condition, his father had passed away quietly in the fall. Left alone with Maverick’s sister, Maverick’s mother couldn’t handle her. Marianna was mentally disabled, and at times very difficult to manage. It was at his dad’s funeral that Maverick decided he’d need to come home, at least at first, to help his mom with his sister. His mom was struggling paying off the medical bills, and though Maverick helped her a great deal, the extra income would come at a really good time.
“I don’t know anything about that stuff,” Maverick said. “How to shoot videos, or start a web page, or any of that shit.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Celia said. “You are the experienced Dom in the group. You know what to do.” She was right. He’d been a Dom for years, had played the scene for a while before he’d settled down with a long-term submissive. Though Crystal had been a wonderful submissive, the chemistry was off, and the two of them had mutually agreed to break up. Shortly after, his father passed away, and Maverick hadn’t taken the time to even begin to look for another submissive.
He did know the scene. He knew it well.
He grumbled. “I’ll think about it.”
Celia grinned. “I’ll write up a business plan. We meet at Rodney’s place tomorrow anyway, for the game. We can talk more then. And anyway, Maverick. Think about it this way.” She paused, and sobered. “You and Rodney, you two would be doing the whole community a service, improving things for the better for Doms and subs across the country. You’d be saving girls like me from ending up with losers.”
Rodney snorted. “Might be able to build a web page, but I’m not a magician, Celia,” he said.
She punched his arm, and Louanne giggled. But Maverick didn’t respond.
She had a point. Celia knew how to play her cards.
* * *
Maverick sat on a high stool in Rodney’s basement. It was what Louanne called the Man Cave, framed prints on the walls of the New York Giants, and the Yankees. Autographed baseballs stood in cases, and a large, leather, wraparound couch encircled one wall. It was dark, and casual, and perfect.
“Dungeon domming,” Celia crooned. “Love it.”
“Jesus,” Maverick muttered.
They practiced the filming, until they got it just right. Viewers would get a look at Maverick from the neck down.
“That way we get the yummy biceps and dommy posture, but no one knows who you are,” Celia said.
Whatever.
It had taken a solid week to get Maverick to agree to film, and another solid week until they got the set to his liking. He’d agreed to film half a dozen videos, and Celia came up with their tagline. Teaching Dominants: How-to from experienced Doms. They’d as
ked around with people they knew, and gotten a few people to come and pose as models.
“All right, so what’s the topic tonight?” Maverick asked.
“Implements!” Celia said with glee, as she produced a large canvas bag from behind her back and dumped the contents on the bar. “And I know you don’t spank your friend, but if you need to demonstrate the flogger, have at it, big boy.”
“The hell with the flogger. You’ve got a tawse in there?” Maverick quipped. The flogger Celia brought was soft, flexible suede and would be fun and sensual. The shorter, harsher leather tawse would have her begging for mercy. She sobered.
“No tawse,” she said.
“Shame,” he responded, staring her down. She grumbled under her breath, frowning as she assembled the implements on the bar next to him. He stifled a chuckle. Good.
Maverick looked at the assortment she’d laid out. Celia had somehow managed to pull strings, and the local BDSM club was sponsoring their filming. They’d donated new equipment, in exchange for their name being emblazoned at the top and bottom of each of the instructional videos. Maverick had agreed reluctantly, not having spent much time at the club, but Rodney and Louanne assured them it was fairly tame. And they had a good reputation.
“Quite the arsenal of ass destruction,” Rodney said, as he eyed the pile of implements atop the bar.
Louanne snorted. “Oh my gosh, Rodney,” she said, her cheeks flushing, as he picked up a wicked-looking cane.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to bend you over the bar, little lady?” he asked with mock sternness. She flushed deeper.
Celia rolled her eyes. “Move along, you two. Go play somewhere else. We need to get this show moving.”
Louanne gratefully fled to the couch at the back of the room, and Rodney pretended to pocket the cane, but Celia snatched it from him.
Maverick picked up the oak fraternity paddle, twisting it in his hand appreciatively. It had good heft to it and would do well for a real discipline session. He put that down, and picked up the cane Rodney had been playing with. He frowned. Didn’t like canes, too easy to inflict unnecessary pain. Still, he knew they had their place, as he put it down next to a thick leather strap.
