by Sadey Quinn
Aria and I decided on a Holiday Inn at the edge of town. An empty hotel is best, and I’ve noted there are usually very few cars in its parking lot.
I haven’t done this kind of thing in years. Before buying my parent’s place, I’d occasionally meet with a client at a hotel. They’d arrange lodging and I’d give them their discipline. It was never the same, never as safe, as holding sessions in private homes. When I bought my house, my career took a turn for the better.
But seeing Aria’s hopeless face last night, and knowing I can’t give her what she needs with Rachel at home, brings me back to the days of hotel room discipline. I’m not looking forward to it. In the back of my mind, throughout the entire session, I’ll be waiting for that knock on the door. And on the other side of the door will either be an angry neighbor, a concerned looking housekeeper, or, worst case scenario, very stern looking police officers.
Sighing, I head up to room 219. I take the stairs, walking slowly, not feeling in any rush. Poor, poor Aria. She’s tried so hard to make up for her problems at work. I’ve spanked her countless times for screwing up this or that, or telling fibs to Rachel to make up for being late or missing meetings. I can’t blame Rachel for her decision. Hell, I don’t really know what goes on in her office. Even so, I can’t help but feel a little bit upset with Rachel, even if it is unjust. Aria’s been a client of mine for a long time, and I’m very fond of her. She has a good spirit and a warm heart. I understand she’s not the most book-smart person in the world, but she makes up for it with her charm.
At the door, I hesitate before knocking. Part of me feels like I should’ve delayed this, even though I know Aria’s need is urgent. Rachel has needs, too, though. I know a few hours will allow her to reflect and wrap her mind around the situation, and she’ll be easier to talk with this afternoon. But am I a bad boyfriend for leaving? Does she feel ignored? Should I give her a quick call?
I decide to wait until I’ve finished the session. I don’t want an argument, nor do I want her trying to convince me not to do this. I’m loyal to Aria, but I love Rachel. If Rachel asked me not to spank her ex-secretary, I would honor her wishes. I can’t call her because I can’t have her say no. Aria needs me right now.
This is so confusing. I can only hope that Rachel has some empathy for Aria. And for me.Aria needs me to do this.
After what feels like ages, I manage to raise my arm up and tap lightly at the door. It opens immediately, making me realize Aria was standing right there this whole time, waiting for me to knock. I take in her appearance and my heart wrenches. She’s wearing a pink t-shirt. Her sweatpants that are clearly too big for her, rolled up at the waist. Her eyes are red and swollen, her blond hair is a mess, and her lips are set in the most pitiful frown I’ve ever seen.
I close the door behind me and wrap her up in my arms. “Oh, Aria,” I say, rubbing her back gently. “Why is this so upsetting to you?”
She can’t respond. I feel a fresh set of tears building inside of her and I hold her there and let her cry. I’ve spanked Aria for work problems and personal problems. I’ve counseled her after break-ups and even funerals. This, though, is the worst I’ve seen her.
“Go, take a quick rinse in the shower,” I say, releasing her. Showers tend to cool me off when I’m feeling emotional, and I’m hoping it will have the same effect on Aria. I give her a little push toward the bathroom. “When you’re done, we’ll have a talk.”
She nods, wiping tears off her cheeks, and obeys. When I hear the water running, I pull my tools from my long duffel bag. I’ve brought a cane, a paddle, and a ball-gag. I never use gags with clients when I work from home, but I know Aria can be loud when she’s spanked. I really, really don’t want anyone to hear her screaming. I put them on the dresser beside the TV and survey the room. She’s already drawn the curtains. There’s a small table with two chairs where we can talk before I begin. One corner is bare, which would work for corner-time, if needed.
Aria’s wearing a short, white terrycloth robe when she comes out. She’s pulled her hair back into a long braid behind her head. Her face looks a little better, though it’s still clear she’s been crying. God, if I can ease her emotional pain just a little with this session, I’ll be a happy man.
I sit at the table and motion for her to do the same. She does, staring at the ground the whole time. With care, I reach over and tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me. I smile at her and, commendably, she manages a small smile back.
“Can you tell me why this is so upsetting to you?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Would you rather talk while over my lap?”
She nods, and I hold back a chuckle. “Robe off,” I say. Before relocating myself to the end of the bed, I turn the TV on, hoping to mute at least some of our sounds.
Aria knows the drill. She drops her robe without hesitation and puts herself across my knees. I shift her so her upper body is resting on the bed. She faces the TV, and there’s a mirror on the wall which means I can actually make eye-contact with her while I spank her. I make a mental note to adjust some things in my office so I can hang a mirror when I want to be able to talk with a client while she’s over my lap. I smile at her through the mirror, and again she gives me a smile back. With that, I begin.
She gets this peaceful look on her face as I warm her bottom up. She closes her eyes, breathes deep, and lets out a long sigh. I spank her for a full two minutes, not going fast at all nor spanking very hard. When I pause, I rest my hand on her behind.
“Why are you so upset by this?” I ask again.
Aria frowns. “Because I wanted her to like me.”
“I know you did, hon.”
“How long have you been with her?”
Now it’s my turn to frown. “Aria, I told you last night, we are not discussing that.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, looking apologetic enough for me to believe it.
I follow with ten hard spanks. She squirms, but doesn’t make a sound.
Curious about something, I decide to be honest with her.
“Have you ever considered switching jobs completely? To something you enjoy? I swear, half the time you come to me, it’s for help with something work related.”
“I’d be bad at everything. I’ve never held a job for more than a year. Rachel only kept me this long because she couldn’t get approval from human resources.”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me.”
I wince. That was a cruel thing for Rachel to say, and completely unnecessary.
“She wanted to fire me completely,” Aria continues, obviously trying to hold back more tears. “She recommended they not allow the transfer…”
Sighing, I begin again. “Just let it out, hon,” I say.
Deciding to go for long and moderate, versus short and strong, I spank her at a medium pace and strength. She doesn’t struggle. Instead, she’s completely relaxed on the bed, sobbing quietly. I continue for a full twenty minutes without pause. By the end, she’s got a glazed look on her face. There are no more tears.
My arm is getting sore, and my hand stings. I debate ending the spanking there, but I don’t want to go too light on her. This would be an awful time to give her less than what she needs. So, I reach for the paddle and rest it on her right butt cheek.
She moans, anticipating what’s coming.
“Aria, I want you to keep your mouth closed while I paddle you. Understand?”
“Yes, David,” she whispers.
With the same pace as the hand spanking, I paddle Aria’s bottom. She groans loudly, but, ever obedient, she doesn’t shout or cry out in pain. The slap of the paddle against her flesh echoes through the room, far louder than the sound of the television, and I try not to think about the noise. My fear of being caught shouldn’t distract me from doing my job.
After thirty spanks, I pause, giving her a little break. She relaxes across my lap, tears running down her cheeks. I’m not sure if the t
ears are from the emotional or physical pain, and I know it doesn’t really matter. Right now, she just needs to cry. I shift a little, holding onto her as I reach in my back pocket for travel tissues. I hand her one and she blows her nose.
“I’m going to give you fifty more spanks, Aria. Hard ones. Can you try to take them quietly?”
“Yes, David.”
“Good girl.”
Silently counting, I paddle her bottom. Her cheeks are bright pink, and I concentrate on the sensitive flesh between her butt and thighs. I don’t want to bruise her, but I want her to remember this spanking when she sits down today and tomorrow.
She’s taking it well, barely struggling at all, and groaning only a little when I spank the same spot more than once in a row. Her legs move up and down as she manages the pain, but she’s not kicking violently like she sometimes does. She’s under control.
At forty spanks, I slow way down. Each of the last ten swats are very hard, and each one makes her gasp. At forty-six, she reaches her hand back instinctively, but yanks it out of my way without a verbal warning from me.
At fifty, she’s openly sobbing. I set the paddle down beside me and rub her back while she cries across my knees.
Five minutes later, she’s only sniffling. I lift her up, pull the blankets down on the bed, and lay her on her stomach. I’m fairly sure this was all she needed, but I’ll stay with her for a while to be positive. Sitting beside her, I stroke her back as she rests, using the remote to mute the television.
How can I make Rachel understand the need for compassion? Not just compassion with her family and friends, but with everyone around her? Doesn’t she realize that every single interaction she has with others has at least some effect on the other person? I understand the need to have Aria transferred, or even fired, but I don’t get why she couldn’t do it with a little more tact.
“Are you still going to be able to have me as a client?” Aria whispers, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I’m not sure. I hope so.”
“Does she know you’re here with me?”
“Aria, stop.”
“Sorry.”
“Tell me about your new boss,” I say, changing the subject.
Her eyes light up a tiny bit, warming my heart. “His name is Jeremy. Rachel hates him. He’s great, though. He said he’s happy I got transferred.”
“See, now? That’s wonderful,” I reply, though in the back of my mind I’m worried about exactly why Jeremy might be happy she got transferred. Aria is a beautiful woman, and very vulnerable. I’ll ask Rachel about Jeremy later.
“Yeah. I guess it is.”
“You know, in spite of the things Rachel said, you should have faith in yourself. Work hard, and you’ll do well. You’ll make mistakes—we all do. But you’re an honest, good person. Understand?”
She nods and smiles. This time the smile isn’t forced.
“Do you need more?”
“No. I’m perfect. And you can go, you don’t have to worry about me. I know you should get home.”
Aria’s selflessness makes my heart ache for her pain. I pack up my things and use the bathroom sink to splash water on my face. Before leaving, I sit back down with her.
“I have a question that I need you to answer honestly, Aria,” I say.
“OK,” she murmurs. Her eyes are closed and she looks half asleep.
“I want to speak with Rachel about this situation. Not about your spanking, or your session. Just about the transfer. Is that all right with you?”
She shrugs. “Sure.”
“Also, I want your commitment to discretion. Understood?”
She opens her eyes and looks a little hurt. She takes a moment, then speaks to me very clearly. “David, I would never talk with anyone about you being my disciplinarian. Or you being with Rachel. I promise. I actually like Rachel, even though she hates me. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”
“Good girl,” I whisper. I want to scoop her up into my arms and hug her for saying that. “You’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known. Remember that, all right?”
She’s back into sleep mode and mumbles, “All right.”
Feeling a mixture of emotions, but happy I agreed to do this session, I let myself out.
~5~
Rachel
Around eleven, I get a text from David. He’s done and coming home.
I text him back with a message to try to leave me alone until the end of my workday. Frankly, I don’t want to see him or talk to him at all. I should’ve gone into work this morning.
I’m set up at the kitchen table and have to admit that, in spite of my background anger about Aria, it’s pretty nice to work at home.
Pushing Aria and David out of my mind, I absorb myself in work. I’m in the middle of a campaign for one of our bigger clients, and so far everyone is pleased with the progress. Because I’ve had a week without a secretary, I ended up with some mundane extra work.
Which reminds me—I get to hire a new secretary. Normally, people at my company are assigned a secretary, but my boss has been so impressed with me lately that he’s letting me pick between the potential candidates. We’ve got three interviews scheduled for tomorrow, and I leaf through the file of the applicants. Their company photos are paper-clipped to the top of their resumes, and one of them—Luke Oppelman—is freaking gorgeous.
I laugh to myself, realizing how ridiculous it would be to hire a secretary based on looks. Hell, that’s what Jeremy did, though. I almost feel bad for Aria. Jeremy’s leering, gross eyes will be on her body all the time. Yuck.
When David comes home, he’s with Mitchell. They beeline out to the backyard, both of them shooting me apologetic looks as they tip-toe through the kitchen. I feel a pang of guilt for my rude text to David. Not for making David feel bad, but for making Mitchell feel like he has to tip-toe around me.
Honestly, I want David to feel bad. It’s his job that’s making me feel like crap. He should feel a little crappy, too.
When he comes in to make lunch, he works quietly, humming softly to himself. He sets a sandwich in front of me and leans down to kiss my cheek.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope we’re not being too loud out back.”
I’ve barely noticed the noise. “It’s fine,” I say begrudgingly.
I want to hate the sandwich but it’s delicious. Roast beef on pumpernickel. He even gave me a pickle, which he doesn’t care for, but knows I love.
Around four, I pack up for the day and call my boss to update him on progress. As I’m winding down the call, Mitchell tip-toes by, waving goodbye. I try to give him a bright smile, still feeling bad that whatever David told Mitchell made him worried about bothering me.
When David comes in a few minutes later, he ignores me and heads straight for the shower. I pace around the house, irritated that I can’t even talk with a friend about this situation. My once-normal life is now filled with this huge secret. Samantha is my best friend, and I can’t go to her for advice anymore.
It’s not fair.
I think about this morning. David going to see Aria. Did she get naked for him? She is so insanely beautiful. Does he find her prettier than me?
Is he attracted to her? Does he only take attractive clients?
Suddenly I feel sick to my stomach, and I burp a pumpernickel burp. I sit on the couch and put my head in my hands.
When David comes in, fresh out of the shower, I look up at him with a glare.
“What did you tell Mitchell?” I demand.
He shrugs. “I told him the truth.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“I told him you were working from home today, and needed us to be quiet. And, I told him you found out one of my clients is your secretary, or rather, your recently-fired secretary, and that you feel, understandably, weird about it. I explained I met with your secretary for counseling this morning, and you knew part of that session was about you firing her. See, Rach, when yo
u take spanking out of the equation, your confused feelings are still completely normal. It’s a strange situation.”
“What did Mitchell say?”
“Not a lot.” David smiles. “Because when you take the spanking out of the equation, it also becomes a somewhat uninteresting situation. It’s just a thing you and I need to work around and deal with.”
“I think you should stop seeing her.”
He sighs. “I know you think that right now. And if you still feel that way after you’ve had more time to process all this, I’ll respect that. But I want you to hear me out, and I want you to consider Aria’s feelings. Do you think you can have a rational conversation about this right now?”
“Don’t be condescending,” I say, glaring at him.
“Watch your tone.” He frowns at me, getting that stern look that makes me want to back down immediately.
But, instead, I fold my arms across my chest and try to stare him down.
“I want to open this discussion with you from a different angle,” he says, grabbing my hand and walking toward the back door. “Rather than discuss Aria, let’s talk about my profession. Because ultimately, that’s something I know still bothers you, and it’s at the root of all of this. Before you can be rational about Aria, you need to be rational about my job.”
I consider this as David leads me outside. We walk past the new office building to the edge of the yard. Sparky happily runs ahead, then back toward us, running circles as we walk.
At the fence we sit together, facing the house and office. My mind is reeling. Images of Aria, naked over David’s lap, flash in front of me. Then other women, all of them gorgeous…smiling after David spanks them. Shaking their asses at him. Getting naked for him.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I whisper. I’m staring at the ground and start picking at blades of grass.
“You can do it,” he says firmly.
“How?” I look up at him. Anger builds in my chest. “How can I get used to you being around beautiful naked women?”
David looks briefly surprised, then recovers, and says, “You’ll get used to it.”
I roll my eyes. “I can’t stop thinking of you with Aria. She’s so pretty. It isn’t fair to ask me to be fine with this.”
