by Maren Smith
His eyes looked like liquid pools that I wanted to drown into. Breathing had suddenly become difficult, as my chest had tightened. “What do I have to do to be a good girl?”
“I'm going to get the hairbrush. You wait here and when I get back you're going to take your spanking. No more hitting, no more biting. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes.” The word came out barely a whisper.
Brandon bent his head down and kissed me lightly, long enough for me to arch my back and hope for more. Sadly, that was not to be the case. I was learning quickly that Brandon meant what he said. He wasn't gone long, but every second I sat there on my tender, throbbing rear waiting for more punishment was an agony. Suddenly, my earlier outburst seemed so stupid. I should have known not to make a man like him angry.
When he came back, hairbrush in hand, my eyes were pulled like magnets to the implement. It was black oak and it looked deadly. "You can't hit me with that thing," I said weakly.
"Remember, Karen. Be my good girl."
Oh my God. His words robbed me of the power of speech–I didn't want to talk ever again. I just wanted to melt into a puddle on his floor and stay here forever. When he sat down and patted his leg, I placed myself over his knees without hesitation. I was acutely aware of the way my hips pressed into his hard, muscled thighs.
"We're going to leave these on for now," he murmured, patting my bottom. That did it. A shiver of delight traveled through me, and I had to work hard to stifle the moan that came to my lips.
From the very first swat, I realized my mistake. No man, not even this god-like hottie, was worth the unbearable sting that penetrated my bottom with each swat of that wicked hairbrush. Before I could beg him to stop, the tears came. I tried to wipe them away, but another jarring swat landed, throwing me forward on his lap. As swat after swat rained down, eventually I gave into the sobs. Before long I was crying over his knee, which I continued until I didn't think I could ever cry again. I'd never felt so worn out in my life. My eyes were sore, and I knew if I looked in a mirror they'd be as red and bloodshot as if I drank the whole bottle of wine by myself. I didn't know when he stopped spanking me, but I could feel his hand pressed down on the small of my back and knew without having to ask that he wasn't going to let me up just yet.
"Have you learned anything?" he asked suddenly.
"Um...not to bite you," I replied, my lips still quivering. "Sir."
"That's a good lesson," he chuckled. "Anything else?"
"No kicking?" I guessed, crying again as heat continued to radiate over my rear.
"Also good, but why did I spank you in the first place, Karen?"
"For b-being mean," I answered.
"You're too sweet of a girl to be mean," he replied gently.
I couldn't imagine where he'd gotten that. Was he so delusional that he took my usual take-no-shit attitude for PMS? "No one ever calls me sweet."
"Well, now someone is and you need to live up to it."
"But—"
Two sharp cracks of the hairbrush to my tender orbs cut off my protest and had me sobbing again over his lap. Brandon waited until I calmed down, patting my back as I cried. When I finally settled down, he continued. "No more cursing at people just because you are unhappy with a situation. Understand?" I heard what he was saying, but I didn't think it was something I could agree to. Almost as if he could sense my hesitation, he asked a question that had me trembling. "Do we need to continue this discussion?"
"N-no, Sir."
"See? You can be sweet."
I opted not to reply as I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't risk more stinging blows to my posterior.
"Then it's settled. You're going to watch that sharp tongue and that potty mouth of yours?"
"Yes," I panted out, just to make it stop.
"I'm not convinced."
Three more sound smacks of the hairbrush to the back of my thighs convinced me to say what he wanted to hear. "Yes, Sir!" I practically screamed out.
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Brandon helped me sit, but wouldn't let me off his lap. All I wanted to do right then was to crawl into a hole and bury myself alive.
"Depends on your definition of 'hard'," I retorted.
"Karen, do you really want to take that tone with me right now? Think about it."
"No. I'm sorry," I replied, trying to stand up. I didn't really like him seeing me so helpless; I didn't like being helpless. Even if, for a moment, it had felt good to let go and let someone else handle things for a change.
Brandon held me on his knee, not letting me escape to nurse my wounds in private. "See? There's that sweet girl I was talking about. Why do you keep her locked away?"
I shrugged, but he wasn't falling for it.
"I mean it. Why do you always have to treat everyone with hostility? Why not just be you, the way you are right now?"
"Because that's apparently only who I am after I've been spanked," I quipped.
"Karen." He drew my name out slow and sweet. "Who are you trying to kid?"
It wasn't a question I knew how to answer, so I let myself think of how close he was holding me, how safe I felt in his strong, muscular arms. It had been a long time since someone made me feel protected. I'd been telling myself for so long that I didn't need anyone to protect me that I'd never realized how nice it could feel. I ignored the part of my brain that told me to get out of there and quick before my she-devil reputation was ruined. Instead, I settled against him, trying to ignore the burning heat in my ass.
We sat there, cuddled together for several long, silent moments during which the world seemed to stop, leaving only him and the way I felt with him. I couldn't remember the last time I'd stopped thinking about deadlines, meetings and conference calls. It hadn't been in a long time, I knew that. I stopped taking vacations, because no matter where I was, I couldn't ever really get away from work. I thought it might last forever, us sitting together just like this with me nestled in the crook of his arm. Then he had to go and ruin it.
"I think I might know what was wrong with your car this morning."
"You think you might know?" The words were spoken with surprising lightness—which was understandable considering how light my heart felt at the moment.
"Let me try that again. I know why your car stalled out and I think it might happen again real soon if you keep driving like a maniac."
"Excuse me?" I drew back to look him in the eye. "What are you talking about?"
"Today when I finished with your car you peeled out of there like Satan was on your tail. If you always drive like that, it's no wonder your car died. In fact—"
"Oh, no," I groaned. "Is this another lecture, already? Is that how this is going to go? You're just going to start running my life?"
Brandon reached over and caressed my face gently, lovingly, as he met my eyes. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before bending his head to mine. "If you'll let me."
***
I don't know what made me say it; maybe it was the after-effects of a soundly spanked rear, or maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was for the way looking into his eyes made me feel like I didn't have to try so hard, or for sheer wanting to. Whatever the case, I didn't hesitate. "Yes" was on my lips before he'd even finished explaining. What he proposed was out of the ordinary, I'd give him that. It wasn't my typical arrangement, but then, my "typical" arrangement meant finding a guy who'd sit and be quiet when I talked, never interrupt or protest, and I'd date him until I was bored with him or he with me.
He'd already improved the experience ten-fold. I was used to people wanting a piece of the pie when it came to my business; I was used to them wanting my opinion, and paying dearly for it. I wasn't used to someone wanting to be around me. I was still stunned that he'd even consider it, after how I'd treated him. I'd more than expected for him to blister my behind and send me on my way, but he hadn't.
He'd offered so much more. He'd given me an out, he'd shown me a way to be free
, at least when I was with him; a chance to let go all of all the stress and burdens that came with my career. I just didn't know if I was brave enough to take it. Could I hand over the control when I was so used to having the final say? It sounded daunting to me and more than a little kinky.
I'd heard of BDSM before, sure. Who hadn't, after Fifty Shades had invaded the homes of housewives everywhere? Now everyone harbored a secret fantasy and hid a pair of handcuffs in their closet.
"That's not what I'm saying," Brandon replied in that sexy, serious voice of his when I voiced my thoughts. "What I'm suggesting is an arrangement more to our needs."
"How romantic," I said dryly, batting my eyelashes at him. I yelped when he reached around and pinched my swollen cheek.
"Do you even know how to stop being sassy?"
"No, it's set on auto," I replied with a teasing smile.
"So I see."
"What do you mean? More to our needs?"
"Ah, well..." Even he looked a bit bashful now. It didn't look good on me, but on him it was downright adorable. I couldn't help but smile at him. "I guess I shouldn't beat around the bush, and anyway, you probably already guessed. I like to spank women."
"What?" I gasped in mock outrage, leaping off his lap. I must have caught him by surprise, because he let me go. "You mean you did that for fun, not for the betterment of human- kind?"
Brandon grinned at me. "Oh, I'm sure it will be that, believe me. If you're anything with your employees like you were with me today..." I carefully avoided his eyes at that remark. "But make no mistake, Karen. I don't pick up women off the street to live out my fantasies. You needed to be spanked, that wasn't for fun."
I almost choked on my tongue. The idea that that could ever be fun was a little daunting. Okay, more than a little. "So you're saying–"
"Wait a minute." He held up a hand to stop me. "Let me get my thoughts out, please. Under normal circumstances, I would have punished you as I'd promised and sent you home." There was nothing normal about such circumstances, but I was learning that Brandon didn't like to be interrupted so I held my tongue. His next words made me glad I did. "But I can't deny that I'm attracted to you and so I'm hoping we can see each other."
"But to see each other means we have to, ah..."
"No. Not if you don't want to."
I had to admit I was impressed by his answer. Most people—myself included—laid something on the table like this and it was a done deal: take it or leave it. But not Brandon. "So you just… for fun?"
"Not exactly." He cocked his head, studying me. "Will you come sit back down?"
"I don't know if I want to," I replied, with more than a bit of sass, but even as I said it I was moving toward him.
"You can sit on the couch if you want, but I'd prefer to look into those beautiful eyes while we have this conversation. It's easier for me to tell what you're thinking," he admitted.
"I think I prefer your lap," I replied coyly, wincing inwardly at the girlish quality of my voice. Where had that come from?
He pulled me down onto his thighs and looked me right in the eye. "I think BDSM is fun, yes. Kinky and fun, but I'm looking for something else. I want to build a relationship with someone who wants the same things I do."
I sucked my breath in sharply. This was going in a completely different direction than I'd thought.
"I'm not asking you to marry me, or anything. If you want to try this, that's great. Hopefully, it will help us both. If not, we can go on normal dates and see how things go from there."
"So, can I ever change my mind?" I asked, suddenly timid. "What if I say no and I decide later..."
"We can always talk about it," he reassured me.
"And if I say yes..." I took another deep breath in a vain attempt to calm my wildly fluttering heart. "What if I agree and it's too much for me?"
"Well," he drew the word out, running a finger down my shoulder. "That's what the safe word is for, sweetheart."
Chapter 5
After he explained the “safe word” to me, I shyly leaned over and whispered one in his ear, brushing his lobe with my lips. He arched an eyebrow and chuckled, but I hadn’t changed my mind. And somehow, after all that, I found myself lying on his bed waiting in eager anticipation. Well, one part eager, two parts terrified.
Why was I doing this? I kept going over and over it in my head and the only thing I could come up with was that I was curious. Brandon promised that he could take me away from all my worries and frustrations if I just listened to him, if I just did what he told me to. Both were going to be hard for me, I knew that, but Brandon made me want to try, for reasons I couldn’t even name.
Where had the man even gone? I wondered, looking around the room. The walls of his bedroom were painted a gray-blue with white trim paneling and the bed I was lying on was a dark cherry four-poster. It wasn’t, I reflected, like the rooms of most of the guys I’d dated, which was evidenced mainly in the absence of sports paraphernalia adorning the walls and the lack of dirty laundry on the floor.
Just as I was sitting up, Brandon came back into the room carrying a few different things in his hands. I tried to get a better look at what he had but the stern look on his face drew my focus.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay on the bed?”
“Yeah, but—”
“I’m sorry? That’s ‘yes, sir.’”
I stuck my lower lip out in a pout, but answered dutifully, “Yes, Sir.”
“And you were leaving because?”
“Um…” I bit my lip, trying to think of a suitable answer. “I didn’t know where you were.”
“If you had gotten up, I wouldn’t have known where you were.”
I pouted even more at his logic, but before I could say so he walked around to where I lay and loomed over me. “I think now is the perfect time to set some ground rules.”
I nodded, feeling my breath catch in my throat as I looked up at him. He looked so amazing in his blue Oxford button-down. It really brought out his tan complexion and accentuated the deep blue of his eyes. The dark sweep of hair on his forehead looked inviting. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but I hesitated. Was touching allowed?
“Karen?”
“Yes?”
He cleared his throat with a gleam in his eye. “Should that be a ‘Yes, Sir?’”
God, I loved the deep quality of his voice. It sent shivers up my spine whenever he opened his mouth—especially if he was being a bit firm, like now. “Yes, Sir.”
He leaned over me, his lips stretched into a sexy grin. “Do you have any idea how much I love hearing you say that?”
“No, Sir,” I giggled as I replied.
“Hmm. Sit up, please.”
So I did, swinging my legs around to dangle off the bed. Brandon sat beside me and the intensity of the gaze he turned on me made me blush. How did he make me feel so positively virginal? It had to be the way he looked at me—like I was the only girl in the world that meant anything to him. It wasn’t a way I was used to getting looked at, but I was more than happy to adjust. It was only for a little while, anyway. We’d have a little fun and then we would both go back to our normal lives.
“I think it would be good to discuss what our expectations are and our goals.”
My lips curved into a smile as I asked, “We have to have goals?”
“I thought this stuff would be a normal day at the office for you,” he teased, and I laughed.
“It’s nothing I’ve ever done before,” I admitted.
“I think most things in life go better if you know in the beginning what you’re looking for, what you expect. I find that to be true in relationships, too.”
“So if I said I expected you to send me off to work every day with a cup of chocolate-cinnamon coffee, you’d do it?”
“We could discuss it.”
“Oh-ho!” I exclaimed. “So, is everything you expect also up for discussion?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
I couldn�
��t help but detect the faintest note of warning in his voice, which became even more evident when he said, “Please, watch your tone.”
I grinned wickedly. Now that the pain in my bottom had begun to ebb a bit I was feeling bolder. “So, no getting under your skin? Is that a rule?”
I could see by the seriousness on his face that I was pushing it, but despite my all-too-recent experience with the flat side of his heavy palm, I wanted to see what this man was made of. I was used to dealing with men that always folded and deferred to my judgment—I wanted to see how different he really was. Yes, maybe he was right; maybe I was in need of someone to keep me in line from time to time.
“No, it’s not a rule, Karen. Respect is the rule. We should always treat each other with respect, even if we disagree, even if we’re mad.”
I took in his stern eyes and no-nonsense voice and nodded. I didn’t want to push too hard just yet. “Yes, Sir.”
“And that’s another thing. Now, normally I am pretty relaxed about the whole ‘sir’ thing, but I think in your case it would help you get in the right mind frame. So for now while we’re together I’m ‘Sir’. Got it?”
I arched an eyebrow. His voice wasn’t assuming, even if his words were, and he seemed so calm, so assured that it took me back. No man ever talked to me like this. “Is that agreeable, Sweetheart?”
“Yes, Sir,” I told him, because then again, no other man called me sweetheart in that soft, sexy voice either. “Respect and calling you sir. Anything else?”
“I want you to be nicer.”
I tried to stop the smirk that came to my lips, but I couldn’t help it. Hell, it was practically my favorite facial expression. “To whom?”
“Everyone.”
A giggle escaped me as hard as I tried to look serious. “Okay, look,” I began, pleading my case before he even started; I could already see the muscle at his jaw twitching. “It’s not that I’m mean, I just take care of business. Sometimes people don’t see it that way, but…” I trailed off when I realized that he wasn’t budging.
