by Jane Henry
His eyes narrowed even further. “Would that have anything to do with the peanut butter and pretzel binge? Did the frosting make it out this time?”
Caught. She cast her eyes down. “Maybe,” she muttered. “And maybe the chocolate chips, too.”
He groaned. “Cel, if you were mine, so help me, I’d tan your ass if you ate that shit,” he said, his eyes concerned and rebuking. Her heart thumped in her chest, and heat throbbed between her legs. She squirmed. She knew he would. That was the problem. He was so big, and strong, and so damn sweet, even if he was stern, it wasn’t even fair.
“Ah, well,” she said, her mouth dry. “Whatever.” She ignored his growl, as Rodney came in the room.
“Okay, guys, let’s get going!” Rodney yelled, getting the attention of everyone in the room. “Submissives, come over here and sit on these stools. We’re going to have a practice session, then Celia is going to video our demonstrations. No one’s face will be shown, not even the Dominant, and no real names will be used. We may have some skin bared, but we’ll keep the rating clean. Got it?”
Everyone murmured their assent, as they sat where Rodney indicated. For the first time, Celia looked at the faces of the submissives who’d come.
One was a heavier girl, with jet black hair that hung in straight sheets. Extensions? Her makeup was dramatic, with deep red lipstick, shockingly black eye liner, and smoldering eyes. She was pretty, but in a dominatrix sort of way. She didn’t look the part of a submissive. But, Celia reasoned, looks could be deceiving, and what did a submissive look like, anyway?
The second was a thin blonde, with high cheekbones, her hair done in two braids. She looked barely old enough to drive, let alone partake in a scene like this. Her eyes flitted around the room. Maverick could lift her with one hand. Geez. Celia looked at Rodney.
“Everyone’s ID’s match up? Everyone of age?”
“Yep,” he said. “Promise.” Well, then, the young-looking girl was maybe into looking young. Some people kind of dug that kink.
The third was, unfortunately, stunning. She had a curvy figure, voluptuous but fit. Her dark brown hair framed her face in a halo of curls, and her high cheekbones and dark skin gave her an exotic look. She was wearing a plaid schoolgirl skirt, with a button-down top, thigh highs, and heels. Yikes. Celia looked down at her own jeans, flats, and long-sleeved emerald tee shirt. She hadn’t dressed up, knowing she wasn’t going to be on camera.
Maverick stood, and Celia could hear the girls grow quiet. He looked so much the part of Dom it was almost too perfect. Tall, huge, and muscular, stern, and unyielding. He could take any one of them over his knee with no help for it. He crossed his arms on his chest and began in his low, husky voice. “Tonight, our purpose here is just a demonstration. You know we’re role-playing spankings. It won’t be staged, but it won’t be as hard as a real punishment spanking would be.” Celia shifted on her feet, as he continued.
“I’ll tell you beforehand exactly what to expect, but I’m not going to demonstrate very much, because I don’t want any marks on you before we begin filming. Everyone got it?” They girls nodded in unison. “Any questions?”
The dark-haired knockout raised her hand. Maverick nodded.
“Will you tell us what you’re using? The position? How many you’re giving us?”
He nodded. “Yes, but it would be best if you could get into it a little,” he said. “It would make for a better demonstration. And if we have some struggling, it would be good for me to demonstrate how to restrain.”
Shit, if Celia wasn’t already turned on... She shook her head. Gotta stay professional. Gotta stay professional!
“Okay,” Maverick pointed to the gorgeous brunette. “Name?”
Of course, Celia thought to herself. Go for the knockout.
“Nadia,” the woman said in a thick accent.
He nodded. “Okay, Nadia, you first. We’re going to begin with a quick demonstration, and then our filming will go live. For the practice session, I’ll spank you at about twenty percent. It’ll be much harder for the real video. Got it?”
Nadia nodded, her eyes gleaming. “Yes, sir.”
Celia froze. Uh uh. No way. She was not going to go all sub on him! Was she? Celia’s eyes flew to Maverick.
“You’re not my submissive, Nadia,” he said. “When we film, ‘yes, sir’ is appropriate, but not when we’re off-set. Got it?”
Phew.
She nodded. He sat on the leather couch and beckoned her over. He had a small leather paddle next to him.
“Okay, so I’ll lecture you, then tell you how I want you in position. I’ll give you a few dozen good swats, then send you to the corner. Got it?” She bit her lip, and nodded.
Celia felt her chest constrict strangely. The room grew hot, and she felt dizzy. She sat down quickly next to Louanne, and prepared to begin. She watched them practice, barely conscious of what was going on. It was too hot in here. She needed out. She was going to lose her lunch. Damn, that man was hot with a paddle. Still, it was almost too much to bear, like watching him make out with someone.
Maverick’s hand went up to signal after the practice spanking. Celia swallowed, took a deep breath, and began filming. Nadia stood to the side, as Maverick addressed the camera.
“Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” he said. “For tonight’s demonstration, we’re getting to the nitty gritty on how to administer a good spanking. There are many factors to consider...”
As he continued, Celia couldn’t focus. She kept the camera trained on Maverick, but his words jumbled together as he talked about tolerance, experience, and positions, safewords, and things like warming up before a spanking. She couldn’t listen to him talk about this. It was doing strange things to her and she could barely focus on her job. But she kept her hand steady, as he continued.
He stood Nadia in front of him as the role-playing began.
“I didn’t authorize that outfit, young lady,” he chided. “That barely covers your ass, and you’re not allowed in public dressed like that.” Nadia stood with her hands behind her back.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said in a high-pitched voice. Ugh. Celia rolled her eyes.
“Lie over my lap,” he ordered sternly. “And assume the position.”
Nadia lay over his lap, and when she bent over, her skirt lifted so that the audience could see the curve of her backside. Oh, great. Celia kept filming, rolling her eyes as she did so. Maverick picked up the paddle, and there was a hush. Louanne squirmed on the seat next to Celia. It was one thing getting a spanking, but entirely different watching a girl get spanked. He lifted the paddle, and brought it down with a good, hard thwack!
Nadia fairly leapt off the couch. She craned her head around. “Jesus!” she said. Her high-pitched voice was gone. Her voice was loud and angry, and she scowled at him. “What the hell was that?”
Maverick groaned. “That, Nadia, was called a swat. It’s what happens when you get spanked. I didn’t even swat you as hard as I would have if this were real. That was at about thirty percent. This paddle is pine and covered with leather. They don’t make them much lighter or sensual than that.” He looked up at Celia.
“Round two?” he asked with a sigh. She nodded, barely stifling a snicker. She looked again at Nadia. Wimp.
He tried for a second time, this time swinging more lightly. It was too light, Celia thought, hardly enough of a swing to be even close to realistic. Again, Nadia jerked and swore, and this time, she swung her legs off his lap.
Bewildered, Maverick let her up and stared. “Really?” he said. “Too much?”
“Too much?” Nadia shrieked. “That was ridiculous! What do you think I am, made of steel?”
He blinked. Celia lost her patience. She shut the camera off.
“That was hardly enough of a swat to harm a fly,” she scoffed. “Jesus, I’ve slapped dust off my jeans harder than that. And what the hell do you think you came for? To be tickled?”
Maverick’s eyes gli
ttered with amusement, but Rodney came from the back, hands out in a placating gesture.
“Ladies, ladies,” he said. “Okay, Nadia, maybe this isn’t for you.”
But she was already putting on her coat and heading for the door. Celia noticed with satisfaction that her backside still showed the faintest red mark of a paddle just under her too-high skirt.
I hope she has to go to Walmart or something on the way home. She barely stifled a giggle as her eyes met Maverick’s across the room. He was staring at her, challenging, his eyes dark and brooding. Still holding the paddle in his hand, he turned away.
“Betsy, right?” he said, pointing to the blonde. “You want to try next?”
Betsy stepped forward, her braids swinging from side to side as she approached him. She put a finger to her mouth, and looked up at him with large, doleful eyes. “Yes, please,” she said. “May I bring my teddy?”
Maverick blinked. “No teddy,” he said.
Betsy frowned. “I’ve never been spanked without my teddy,” she said in a whiny voice. “Daddy always lets me have him.”
Maverick frowned back. His eyes went to Celia, asking a silent question. She bit her cheek to keep from laughing, as Maverick turned back to Betsy. “I’m not Daddy.” His brow furrowed. “And does Daddy know you’re here?”
She bit her lip. “Well, no. But I thought it would be a nice birthday present,” she said. “To show Daddy a nice video.”
Maverick cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. Betsy, I’m not sure allowing another Dom to spank you without Daddy’s permission is a very good idea.”
Her face fell. “Oh. Okay, yeah, I didn’t think of it that way. Maybe you’re right.” She grabbed her sweater and skipped to the door.
“Dropping off like flies,” Rodney muttered to Louanne.
“Well, we only really need a few good sessions,” she said.
Rodney waggled his eyebrows at Louanne. Shaking her head vehemently, she hissed “No way, Jose. Uh uh. Ain’t happening.”
“I don’t mean Maverick,” he said. “I mean me. C’mon, honey, you know our sessions are great.”
She shook her head, wide-eyed, her mouth open a little. “Can’t do it!”
He nodded and sighed.
“We still have... um... the third submissive,” Celia interjected, pointing to the large woman with jet black hair and heavy makeup.
Celia looked to Maverick. He was frowning, and looked damn ready to deliver a good spanking. Oh, God.
“Your name?” he asked sternly. The woman stood, and walked on shiny black platform shoes to where he sat. Clunk, clunk, clunk.
“Misty,” she said in a deep voice.
Maverick looked back to Celia, shooting her a look that plainly said, “Good one.” He turned to Misty. “Are you ready, Misty?”
She nodded. “Fuck yeah,” she said, in a voice almost as deep as Maverick’s. “But can I have a smoke first?”
Maverick’s jaw clenched. “I don’t want to smell cigarettes when I spank you,” he said through gritted teeth. “So, no. But if we get this over with quickly, you can have at it.”
She nodded. “Fine,” and without another word, she plunked herself bodily over his lap. He gasped from the weight of her.
“Misty,” he said in a strangled voice. “I didn’t tell you to get over my knees yet.”
“Oh yeah?” she tossed over her shoulder. “Then spank me for it.”
He lifted the paddle, clearly exasperated, and to Celia’s shock, let loose a hard, stinging swat with the paddle. “Get off my lap!” he ordered.
She wiggled her bottom. “Mmm,” she said. “Now that’s what I call a spank. That other girl didn’t know what she was missing.” She reluctantly got off his lap.
Louanne was staring with wide eyes. Rodney’s head was buried in his hands. Celia stared at Maverick.
“Yeah, um...” he said, eyeing the large woman. “I think it’s time to demonstrate a spanking in a different position. Many prefer over a chair, bed, or sofa.”
“Anything you say, sir,” she growled and moved to lie over the arm of the sofa.
Rodney covered a laugh with a cough, but Louanne just kept staring. She looked at Celia and shook her head. Celia knew exactly what she meant. This was not what they were going for.
Maverick stood, and indicated to her that he was ready to begin. Celia started filming.
“Evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “Although I typically administer a spanking with my submissive over my lap, other dominants prefer alternative positions. There are many reasons for this. For one, some feel it enhances the punitive effect of a real spanking when delivered in a position removed from the dominant. Second, positioning a submissive differently allows for a larger variety of implements to be used. Things like belts and canes are difficult to use while over the knee. Tonight, I’ll demonstrate a paddling.”
He lifted the leather paddle, and began to lecture. “I told you to be home on time tonight, young lady. You know what happens to little girls who disobey.”
Celia grimaced. This was hardly a little girl. Gosh, she could take Maverick.
He lifted back the paddle and let it loose, far harder than he had when he spanked Nadia. Misty didn’t even flinch. He reared back again, and delivered another searing swat. Again, she didn’t flinch. Half a dozen more spanks, and she didn’t react at all. At that point, Celia was clenching in sympathy. A spanking like that delivered by Maverick would have her yelping. What the hell would he have to do to get a reaction? He delivered another hard spank, and finally, Misty turned to him.
“Harder!” she barked out. “You call that a spanking?”
He closed his eyes and indicated for Celia to pause the camera. He exhaled patiently. “Misty,” he began, “you’re not supposed to tell me what to do.”
She looked over her shoulder, her long black hair swinging in front of her face. “Well, when are you gonna deliver the real deal?”
His jaw clenched, and he indicated for Celia to begin filming again. Celia’s breath hitched. Uh oh. She’d seen that look on his face before.
Easy, Maverick! She pleaded silently. Was he really going to let this girl have it? Not a good idea. Not a good idea!
His eyes glittered as he looked at the camera, then he turned and looked back to Misty. “You know I expect you to obey me, young lady,” he began. To Celia’s shock, his hands went to his waist, and he unfastened his belt. He pulled it out of the loops, and doubled it over. Celia felt lightheaded. He was not going to spank her with his belt.
Rodney looked at her curiously. This was not part of the plan. He shrugged, while she did everything she possibly could to stay focused and ignore Rodney’s silent ‘What the hell?’
This was her fantasy, one she’d played out so many times in her head... the sound of his belt buckle. The whoosh as he pulled it from the loops on his pants. The way his muscles bulged as he doubled it over, and when he pulled the loop, snapping it in his hands, her knees shook. She could hear the faintest moan from Misty.
“Stay in position,” he ordered, as he reared back and swung his belt hard, the snap of the leather when it connected reverberating around the small room. Misty flinched a bit, and then moaned out loud.
“You will do what you’re told,” Maverick continued. Whack! Another searing stroke of his belt, and still, Misty didn’t move.
Breathe! Breathe! Celia told herself. Holy crap, seeing Maverick deliver a hard strapping with his very own belt was going to make her head explode.
Swat! He continued.
Whap! Another.
He lectured, and spanked, and Misty stayed right where she was. Celia could detect a faint gleam of sweat on Maverick’s face and neck, he was working his belt so hard. He was panting. Finally, he indicated for Celia to pause.
“Misty,” he said patiently. “A little reaction would help.”
She looked over her shoulder. “When the fuck are you going to start spanking me?” she asked, her eyes flashing, as sh
e pushed to her feet and adjusted her clothing.
Louanne squealed. “Oh my God!” she muttered under her breath.
Maverick sighed, as Misty turned around and grabbed her bag.
“This isn’t working for me, pal,” she said, her voice impossibly lower than before, and Celia began to wonder if Misty was, indeed, a Misty, and not a Matthew or a Mark in drag. “I need a smoke, and your spanking is wimpy. My ass is starting to warm up and I can’t wait for the real deal any longer.” She grabbed her bag, and marched to the door in her stilettos, the slap of her shoes on the basement floor echoing, as the rest of them watched in silence. “No hard feelings, folks, but I’m outta here.” The door slammed behind her.
Celia turned off the camera. Louanne was staring. Rodney raised an eyebrow to Louanne, again raising the question as to her own willingness to participate, and she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Celia smacked his arm.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered. She swallowed, as she heard Maverick clear his throat. This was all her fault. She’d been the one to garner the submissives for the shoot, and every one of them had been a dismal failure.
“What are we going to do?” Louanne moaned. “We promised our viewers a new video tomorrow! We have thousands of subscribers now, guys, and we can’t disappoint them. This is a huge deal! A really freaking huge deal!”
“Oh, we don’t have to worry about that,” Maverick said, in his low, deep voice. “We’ll get our spanking session.” Celia turned to him, dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Somehow, she knew. She knew. She felt a prickle of fear tingle along her spine. She swallowed and deliberately inhaled, as she faced him.
“Come here, Celia.”
If only he knew how badly she wanted to hear that scolding tone of his. If only he knew how she wanted real discipline meted out by him, the accountability, the certainty of his dominance and punishment when she needed it. She longed for it. She craved it. Thirsting for real punishment, only Maverick could quench that thirst. Celia didn’t want to fool around and get spanked for the kink. She wanted the real thing, and she wanted it from him.
He was sitting back on the couch, the leather paddle in his hand again.
