by Jane Henry
A spanking from a menu? Giggling, Celia polished off the rest of her drink and placed the glass, ice clinking and swirling on the counter. She was vaguely aware of it hitting the edge of the counter and falling. There was a tinkle of glass or something, but she couldn’t focus on what it was. All she knew was that she was going to get a spanking, and she needed one. “I like leather,” she said. “Who doesn’t? I have a high tolerance if I’m warmed up good first. As to sting and thud, I like it mixed up.”
Lucas was pulling her off the chair. “Naughty girls who are getting a spanking do as they’re told,” he commanded. “Come with me.” She trotted behind him eagerly, though she really had no choice, as he tugged her hand firmly. The noises in the background faded, and she wanted to weep with relief. Her stomach churned from the alcohol and nerves, but she ignored it, knowing that soon she’d be floating, drifting, and ready to welcome the release it would bring her.
The noise of the club died down as they made their way to the back room. Even in her hazy state, she was aware that he was leading her to the furthest end of the club, and a small warning bell echoed in the distance of her mind. Don’t go. It’s too far. If anything went wrong, no one would find you.
“Where are we going?” she asked nervously. “I thought you said we were going to one of the conference rooms?”
“Oh, we are,” he said, “but it’s an exclusive one only Dungeon Masters and professionals are allowed access to. Don’t you trust me?” he tossed over his shoulder.
No. No, she didn’t trust him, but what could she do now? Say no, and ask him to bring her back to the club? She wanted a spanking, and she was eager to see his new toy, and even if he did bring her back to the club, she’d have to go back where Maverick was and shit, but she didn’t want that. She couldn’t handle that.
“What if I said I was scared and asked you to go back?” she asked.
He paused and turned to her. “I’d take you back, of course,” he said. He looked at her with concern. “Do you need to go back?”
She was being silly. He worked for the club, for crying out loud, and they checked backgrounds religiously. He’d just told her he’d bring her back if she wanted to. Smiling, she shook her head.
“No, no, I’m okay,” she said. “And I really have been naughty.”
A slow smile spread on his face. “I’m not going to let a naughty girl go unpunished on my watch,” he said, his eyes narrowing. She felt a prickle of welcome fear. This was part of the game, the excitement and anticipation, nerves building as she prepared to be punished. She was overreacting to where he was taking her. This was all part of the act. A little fear heightened the experience.
When they reached a doorway at the very end of the hall, he removed a set of keys from his pocket, fumbled, and placed a large, silver key in the keyhole. Pushing the door open, he gestured for her to go in. She entered, a slow gasp escaping as she marveled at the beauty of the room. It looked like a swanky hotel room, save for the spanking bench nestled in the recesses of the room. A small cabinet housed implements – she detected a leather strap, a wooden paddle, and a small riding crop, among other things. A large bed stood in the middle of the room, adorned with an opulent, brocade cover, and an old-fashioned matching sofa, with curved feet, flanked one wall. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. It was gorgeous.
“We stage all sorts of scenes in here,” he murmured, as he moved to the cabinet and removed a few things she couldn’t see. His voice dropped. “But for now, you’ll remove your clothing and position yourself for your punishment.”
Removing clothing wasn’t always part of a scene, though she’d done it many times. For some reason, her hands shook as she began to unfasten the buttons of her top. “What if I’d prefer to stay dressed?” she asked quietly.
He raised an eyebrow, frowning. “You may, if you prefer,” he said, working something in his hand that looked vicious. “I’m happy to remove your clothes when we get to that point.”
Her heart pounded, and she wasn’t sure if it was in a good way.
Lucas stood next to the bench. “Let’s test out these new restraints,” he said. “Come here, naughty girl.”
It was part of her fantasy – a strong, sexy man commanding her to come and accept her punishment. The anticipation built in her, though fear plagued her as well. She moved slowly forward, and he gestured for her to lean over. She eyed the bench. It looked like any of the other benches she’d seen before – wooden, two padded kneelers for her knees, and two flat, padded planks in the middle for her to lean against, the one closer to her a bit higher so her bottom would be elevated and fully prepared for a spanking, the other, lower, to support her torso. Kneeling obediently, she leaned over, feeling the precariousness of her position. She’d seen and knelt upon many a spanking bench, but never one with restraints. Closing her eyes, she wondered what it would feel like if the man behind her were Maverick.
Would Maverick have her kneel on a bench? He’d only spanked her twice, and both times, he’d taken her over his knee. But her mind immediately came back to the present, as she felt Lucas’s hand grasp hers. Cool leather engulfed her wrists, and she felt him securing the restraints with a buckle, similar to that on a belt. She opened her eyes, but he was behind her now.
“Do I have a safeword?” she asked.
“You need a safeword with me?” he chided.
Her stomach twisted. Hell, yeah, she needed a safeword, straddling a spanking bench in the dark recesses of a BDSM club.
“Please,” she asked.
“Gumdrop,” he replied.
“Gumdrop?” She squealed as she felt the sting of leather strike her backside.
“Are you questioning me?”
Gasping, she managed to eek out a soft, “No, sir.”
“Good girl,” he replied. “You’re over my bench because you’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied obediently. This was it, her fantasy coming to fruition, and yet, why was she tensed up? Why couldn’t she enjoy herself?
“Tell me what you’ve done wrong, wench.” The word took her out of the moment, out of the scene. She was no wench, and she disliked being called one. But she knew that questioning him at this stage was foolish, as he’d just spanked her for questioning the safeword.
What did she do wrong?
I fell in love with my best friend.
She swallowed.
“Went to bed late. I got pulled over for speeding this week,” she lied. “And, I lied.”
He paused, and she could feel his warmth behind her, right behind her, pushed up against her backside. She squirmed.
“Did you touch yourself without permission?” he asked in a low, seductive voice.
“No,” she said. To her surprise, she felt the sting of leather again.
“Forgetting something?” he asked.
Forgetting? Oh!
“No, sir,” she said.
He stood behind her again, and she heard him lift something from the table behind him. Without warning, a hard swat fell. She gasped, but held position. He said nothing, as he spanked her, one heavy swat with the paddle after another. Tensing up, she found she couldn’t relax. She’d been spanked much harder before, but her instincts were on alert. Many dominants were hardcore sadists and she realized, with her bottom in the air, her wrists helplessly bound in front of her, that if Lucas ended up being one of those sadists, she could be in for the spanking of her life.
Still, he said nothing. Swat after swat fell, and she took it, one sting after another, some falling in the same place. Squirming, she waited for him to be done, but he wasn’t. Would he stop? One particularly hard swat had her screaming out loud.
“You’ve been warmed up now,” he said. “Time to remove your clothes.”
Warmed up?
“No!” she said, panic rising. “Gumdrop!”
“Fuck gumdrop,” he said. “You don’t have any need to safeword yet.”
Cold fe
ar gripped her as she felt his hands on her skirt, drawing it down. “Leave me alone!” she shouted. “I don’t want you to touch me! No more! I said gumdrop!” she screamed. With everything she had, she kicked back instinctively, grateful there were no foot restraints.
As her foot connected with him, she heard him groan. Swearing, he rose to his feet and she felt him pull her hair back so hard she screamed in pain.
“You’d kick me while restrained, you little bitch?” he growled. “I’ll teach you to obey me.”
“NO!” she yelled, but it was too late. She felt the searing lash of his strap hit her harder than she’d ever felt before. It wasn’t sexy, or sensual, or welcome in any way, nothing but hot pain she felt in her whole body.
“Gumdrop! I said gumdrop! Oh my God, stop!”
Another horrific swat landed, and she shrieked, tears coming to her eyes. Her wrists writhed in the restraints, her feet kicking in every direction. She had to get away, but had no idea how. With one final effort, she screamed, “Help!” as loudly as she could.
He would keep spanking her, she knew. She felt him, another swat falling, and she was begging him to stop, when suddenly behind her she heard a commotion. A door was being opened, and shouts were coming, it seemed from every direction. She was dizzy with pain, her head swirling. She heard swearing, and thumps, growling, and the telltale sound of a fight behind her.
Screaming when she felt hands on her wrists, she heard a low voice say, “Shhh. Relax. I’m just removing your restraints now.” She looked up and saw the face of the woman Maverick had been with earlier that evening. Did that mean...
Her hands released, Celia turned as pain radiated all over her body.
Maverick had Lucas in a choke hold. Maverick’s lip was bleeding, but he was far bigger, far stronger, and Lucas didn’t stand a chance.
“You’re lucky I don’t break your neck,” Maverick growled. “God almighty, for one cent I’d break your fucking neck.”
Lucas swore and squirmed. Celia felt so many emotions in her, she didn’t know what to do with herself. He’d saved her. Maverick had come. How had he known? She went from fear, to wanting to fall in his arms and weep with relief.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Maverick, don’t.”
His eyes met hers, and she knew, she knew then, though he hadn’t breathed a word, that he could run, he could hide, he could pretend all he wanted, but right then and there, he’d kill for her. He swallowed, and nodded. Turning to the woman whose soft embrace held Celia, he ordered, “Call the head of security. Use the phone on the wall behind the bed.”
How did he know all this? The woman nodded obediently, and picked up the phone. Minutes later, they heard noise in the hallway, and several large security guards with cuffs entered the room. Maverick glared at Lucas, as if unwilling to let him go. He spoke to the man who cuffed Lucas.
“He took advantage of her. Took her to this room off record, and ignored her safeword. Not only did he violate the top rules of the club, he should be charged for assault and battery.”
The guard nodded. “But they’ll want her for questioning.”
“The hell they will,” Maverick said. “You give them my number, and tell them she’s with me tonight. She’ll answer questions in the morning. She’s been traumatized, and I don’t want her disturbed again this evening. Am I clear?”
The guard nodded. “Go. Take her,” he said. “I’ll tell them to get her story in the morning.”
Maverick released Lucas. He turned to Celia, and in two large strides, had her in his arms.
“Come with me, baby,” he said softly in her ear. Celia swallowed a sob, as she nodded into his broad chest. She began to walk, but felt his arms beneath her, lifting her off her feet as if she weighed no more than a child. He felt so strong, so safe, and so right. She nestled her head on his shoulder, and as he carried her through the door, out of the club, his long, confident strides taking her away to safety, she wept.
* * *
The hot tea felt good, so good, as it coursed down her raw throat. She was on the sofa in Maverick’s place, under one of the multicolored blankets his mom had made, and he was fiddling around on the other side of the room. She heard him talking on his phone in a low voice, and she closed her eyes at the rise and fall of his deep voice. Sitting here, under the blanket, in his place that smelled like sandalwood and vanilla, she was so content, she wanted to stay forever.
They hadn’t talked much on the way home. Softly sniffling in the passenger seat, she answered softly as he asked her very few questions, and he’d talked to the officer himself on his phone at one point. Normally she’d be held for questioning, but Maverick personally knew the officer and had managed to convince him to withhold questioning.
“It’s all on tape anyway,” he said. “Ask CTB security.”
Celia could’ve kissed him.
“Don’t know how that asshole got past security,” he muttered.
“Could happen to anyone,” she said. “It’s not a safe scene, and you and I both know it.”
Silence hung in the air between them. They both knew she wasn’t only referring to physical danger.
“What about the girl you were with?” she asked. “Won’t she want to be with you? Will she be jealous you took me home?”
His brow furrowed and he looked at her, as if confused. “Girl I was with? I wasn’t with any—” Then his eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “You mean Natalie? Hello, no. I wasn’t with her. She’s the CTB business manager, and we were working out a compensation plan for the next month.”
Relief flooded her far more intensely than it should have.
His voice dropped. “Are you in pain?” he asked.
She was. She was throbbing with pain. Her head still ached from when Lucas had pulled her hair back, and her skin was throbbing.
“A little,” she lied.
He swore and growled. “I’ll fucking kill him. I could fucking kill him.”
She closed her eyes tightly. It wasn’t right that he was this upset over a guy taking advantage of her.
“It was my own damn fault for going with him, Maverick. I was just feeling needy, and I—”
“Don’t you dare,” he interrupted angrily. “This is not your fault. You’re entitled to some fun every once in a while, babe. And honestly, how would you know? The guy looked decent enough. I don’t want to hear one more word about you blaming yourself.” His voice took on a scolding edge. “Am I clear?”
Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she’d nodded. She didn’t trust her voice.
And now, here she sat, snuggled up on his couch, basking in the glow of his concern. He hung the phone up, and she saw him shut it down all the way. Tossing it on the bedside table, he came to her side. She expected him to sit on the opposite end of the couch. He always did. To her surprise, he sat right next to her. A large finger reached to touch her face, the back of his hand grazed her cheek. The tender gesture brought another tear to her eye, but she blinked rapidly and closed her eyes.
“You okay, honey?” he said softly.
She nodded. “I am,” she said.
Now that I’m here with you.
“Do you want to come and sit over here by me?” he said, his voice just above a whisper. Opening her eyes, she looked at him. By him? She was already so close to him they were touching. How could she get even closer? His eyes were so soft, so gentle when he looked at her and patted his leg. And then she knew. He was welcoming her into his lap. She swallowed the sob that threatened to escape.
“Yes, please,” she said, and before the words died on her lips, he was lifting her. She was dragged across his knees and nestled up against his chest. Her head on the broad warmth of him, she could smell him, the clean, strong, sexy smell of Maverick. His arms encircled her, and she felt him hold her tight. She nestled her cheek against the bare skin of his neck, as he wordlessly rocked her back and forth, so softly, he hardly moved.
“Shh, baby,” he whispered
. “Poor girl. What a night. God, Celia, I never want to see you hurt like that again.”
Where had this Maverick been? Damn it, he should’ve kept himself hidden. She could hardly handle this soft, gentle side of him.
“How did you know where I was?” she whispered. “I was so far away. How did you know?”
He continued to rock her, as he whispered low, “You think I’d let you set foot in that place and take my eyes off of you for a minute?”
Maverick!
Celia tipped her face up to his. It was a magical moment, and she knew it. They were both bewitched. Daylight would come, and things would return back to normal. He’d go back to being her big bear of a friend, and this would all evaporate. She had to make her move now when the enchantment was at its fullest, when the moonlight still streamed through the window, and they whispered in the darkness, when all things were still possible.
Maverick’s dark eyes bore into hers, and she didn’t look away.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
He didn’t turn away. He stared at her, unblinking, and his response was also whispered. “The only reason I haven’t kissed you is because I don’t trust myself to stop. If I kiss you, I make no promises to where this goes.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” she whispered.
Slowly, so slowly she held her breath, he reached his hand to the nape of her neck, and pulled her closer to him. He lowered his mouth to hers. She didn’t breathe as their lips met.
Her chest rose to meet him, her small hands encircling the mass of him. No longer did she hold her breath. Now, she inhaled like she was drowning and inhaling Maverick would save her life. She kissed him, her hands roaming his chest and exploring, moving over every inch of him, as his teeth nipped her lower lip and she moaned. His tongue slid into her mouth, and she writhed on his lap as one of his large, warm hands slipped up her top and groped at the lacy edge of her bra. Her breath caught as a thumb teased one nipple. She jerked from the magnificent pleasure of his hand on her body.
Celia was no virgin. But as Maverick’s firm, steady hold caressed her breast, his mouth plundering hers, she felt as if she’d never tasted what it was like to kiss. She’d never had her breasts touched like this. Her body had never known what real sensuality was.
