An Author's Angst

by Maggie Ryan

  Standing, he set the computer aside and moved towards the hallway. It was only when he realized he was rolling up his sleeves as he walked that he understood exactly what she had been explaining about her need to be kept on track. She wasn't looking for an easy out—she was looking for someone to take her needs, all of her needs, seriously. He'd make sure that she would never doubt his commitment to her. Though she'd be wailing soon enough, he prayed she would remember their conversation and accept the lesson as it was intended—with care and loving concern. He paused, his hand on the doorknob as he accepted that yes, he was falling in love with Venia. Time would tell if that love would be returned.

  There would be no playful banter this evening. No fictional school prank would be discussed, no role playing would be performed. Tonight was to set the stage for how he intended all future discipline scenes to take place. If they continued to explore this relationship, he knew that the office would not be the only stage. Every room in both her house and his would most likely find the couple exploring either pleasure or the pain required to correct misbehavior.

  Opening the door, he saw that she was true to her word. She was standing in the far corner, her hands at her sides, nose to the wall, bottom lifting a bit at the sound of the door opening. The missing kitchen chair was indeed in the middle of the room. Before taking his seat, he looked around the room and smiled. This was her inner sanctum and the bookshelves held not only her books, but several awards as well. He was proud that though she felt no need to display them on some sort of trophy wall for all who entered her house to see, she was proud enough of her deserved accomplishments to arrange them throughout her personal space. As he took a seat in the chair, he felt very honored that she had chosen to share that space with him. Steeling himself, he called to her. "Come here, Venia."

  Venia turned and walked to him without hesitation. He supposed he shocked her because her eyes widened when he pulled her down to sit on his lap. Oh, she'd be on her feet again soon enough, but she needed to learn how he expected this and any future sessions to go.

  "Anytime you've earned a spanking, we'll begin just as you have. You'll spend some time in a corner to reflect upon why you've earned a hot bottom. Then, you'll sit like this, cradled in my arms and we'll discuss what you've learned. There will be no time limit."

  Her head came up and her eyes met his. He almost chuckled at the brief flash of cunning that flew across the blue irises. "But, no matter how long that discussion takes, you will find yourself upended across my knees for that spanking." Though she closed her eyes briefly, they opened to focus on his again.

  "Venia, I want you to understand that if this were any other circumstance, I would not be preparing to spank you. However, you've asked me to keep you on track and with your deadline, we simply can't play around. I was very pleased to hear how excited you were this morning, sorry to hear you obviously struggled through two story lines, and, sweetheart, I admit I'm a bit saddened to read the one you haven't deleted."

  "But, I told you I was thinking about a moon dust book!"

  "I know, honey, but you didn't tell me it was some sort of mish mash revolving around Star Trek and Apollo 13. You didn't mention your characters were going to be a conglomeration of the nutty professor, Tom Hanks and that ridiculous cartoon character Jessica Rabbit."

  "Hey, I'll have you know, I was thinking of you for Einstein, who is a scientist and not a nutty professor, and Deena is not a rabbit!"

  He gave her a few minutes and then sighed when her eyes continued to flash. "Tell me truthfully, if you were to read the part about a lady scientist who just happened to be named Deena and that part about her bosom being barely contained by the heart shaped cups of her bra out loud to our Dina, what do you think her reaction would be? Do you think she'd take pride in living life vicariously through one of your characters or do you think she might feel a bit like she'd been painted as some sort of blonde bimbo who was only picked for the long space trip so that her endowments could keep her co-astronauts amused?"

  He watched as the defiance leaked from her eyes and what appeared to be a mixture of horror and shame filled them.

  "No, oh, God, I love Dina. I'd never ever do anything to make her feel anything less than the brilliantly talented woman she is."

  "Then, Venia, I suggest you remember how brilliantly talented Scarlett Rose is. If I remember correctly, 'Charlotte forgot about what the titled members of society might think as she finally gave her heart to Blaine. Nothing in her life had ever made her feel so secure, so happy, so safe and so loved than being in the arms of the man who had risked his life to save her. He made her feel like the most valuable treasure on earth and for that, she'd not only give him her love, she'd give him her soul'."

  Venia sat up, her mouth open. "Oh my God, how do you know that?" Her eyes darted to her bookshelf as if expecting to see the book she'd written so long ago, laid open to the page he'd just quoted verbatim. "You read my book?"

  "I have an eidetic memory which is very useful in recalling words that I've particularly enjoyed, and, sweetie, I enjoyed every word of your book. I'd find it hard to believe that any woman who has ever known how it feels to be so loved, to not want to think you'd based Charlotte on them. As for Einstein, well, I admit you might have inserted a bit of the fun we had last night, but he comes off as a misogynist. Instead of a man who might be considered Deena's hero, I think your readers will see him as nothing more than a man who doesn't give a flip about her intelligence but is willing to play along until he can get into that tiny lacy thong." He paused as her cheeks flushed. "And, frankly, if he is in any way supposed to reflect me, then, honey, I have a definite problem with that."

  "No, not really," she said quietly. "I mean, I guess I wasn't really thinking about what I was writing. In fact, his name was Edward but I remembered how turned on I was when playing with you last night that I switched his name to Einstein."

  "If you don't mind, I'd far rather you keep Einstein or even Professor for me and me alone. After all, you never know when I'll need to send you a note instructing you that you have an appointment with the Principal."

  Venia laughed and nodded. "That's a deal. So, I'm guessing that my characters are to be jettisoned?"

  "I think that is a very good plan. I know it means you lose those words and have to make them up, but, Venia, instead of reaching for words or plots that don't truly have you lost in your own world, I'm hoping you rethink this entire plan. After all, can you truly tell me that when Scarlett Rose's fans buy your book they aren't going to be thinking what the hell happened? Seeing all the awards you've earned, I find it hard to believe you want to disappoint them."

  "I don't but I'm telling you, Scarlett refuses to come back. Besides, I don't have to use that pen name, I can pick another. All my publisher cares about is getting the book."

  Jeffrey knew she wrote fiction but also felt she was still attempting to deny reality. "I see, so he'll be as happy as your fans? He won't care that instead of a Scarlett Rose book that has people lining up to buy, he has to promote a book by a new author and one that will have people returning it after reading less than one chapter?" At her look of disappointment, he gave her a hug. "Venia, I'm just asking you to think about what I'm saying. I admit I'm no expert on writing or publishing. I just know that the book I read last night had me wanting to read another."

  "You really mean that?"

  "Of course I do. You'll find I don't say what I don't mean." He bent and kissed her softly and then loosened his hold. "You'll also find that I don't believe agreements should be broken."

  "Yes, sir," she said. "While I was in the corner, I asked myself if I really needed you to stay on track."

  "What did you decide?"

  "That I not only need you, I want you. Jeffrey, all kidding aside, I'm feeling things for you that I haven't felt since Greg. I know that I shouldn't worry about disappointing you but I do. Not because it makes me any less of a good person, but because it makes me feel less about
myself. I need your strength and commitment to keep me on track and to assure me that you believe in me. I promise, no matter how much I might appear to protest, or how much I might cry and beg for you to stop, I accept any discipline you decide on. I accept you as my HOH without hesitation."

  Jeffrey felt as if his soul had come home. Holding this woman on his lap had his heart filling. "I accept the responsibility and thank you for the gift. I want you to remember, no matter how painful your discipline is, no matter how much your beautiful bottom will ache, the most important thing to remember is that even while I'm tearing into your backside, my love for you is filling my heart. Every session will end with you cradled on my lap, my arms around you until you are ready to be let go."

  "That could be a lifetime," she whispered.

  "Then that is our plan," he said, right before kissing her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Venia didn't protest as he guided her off his lap. She had meant every word she'd said, she not only needed this man, she was in love with him. When he looked up at her, his hands at her waist, she gave him a smile.

  "I didn't think to bring my paddle," he said.

  Grateful that the board of correction was safely at his house, she figured a hand spanking would hurt a great deal less. Her expectations were shattered at his next question.

  "Do you have a sturdy hairbrush, or perhaps a ruler in your desk drawer?"

  "Um, yes… I mean, I have both."

  "Good, could you get them for me please?"

  Venia nodded and stepped away. Opening her drawer, she removed the thick ruler she'd had since high school. Setting it down on the edge of the desk closest to him, she told him the brush was in the bathroom.

  "That's fine. Go ahead and use the bathroom if you need. After your spanking, you'll be spending more time on display in your corner."

  His words had her imagining what her poor butt would look like when he let her off his lap. Knowing he'd be looking at the evidence of his discipline, she felt her stomach flip and her bottom cringe. This time she didn't bother looking into the mirror. Last night had been for fun, tonight was for discipline. Using the facilities, she grabbed the heavy wooden hairbrush off the counter. Though it had often been used on her bottom, it had been a very long time since she'd felt its distinctive crack. Shuddering, she wondered if her memory of how awful that large oval felt when it cracked against the skin of her bare ass would prove to be valid.

  Unsure whether to place the brush next to the ruler, she decided to hand it to him. Jeffrey thanked her and placed the brush on the desk.

  "We'll begin with my hand to warm your bottom. Then you'll be paddled with the brush. We'll leave the ruler on the desk for tonight but know that if a second trip is involved, it will be added to the punishment. I'll also be bringing a paddle to add to your collection. For every trip you take over my knees for failure to keep on track, another implement will be added. It is my hope that the book will be written and submitted before it is necessary to have me removing my belt, or having you go cut a switch."

  "Yes, sir," she managed, her bottom no longer simply cringing—she could swear she felt every cell in every pore attempting to relocate to another part of her anatomy. When his hands moved to her waist, she couldn't stop the tremor that ran through her, somehow grateful that her body would be supported by the same man who was going to blister her butt.

  She obediently stepped out of her skirt after he'd lowered it to her ankles. There was no need to allow her modesty this evening. They weren't playing naughty, innocent school girl—they weren't playing at all. Placing her hands on his shoulders for support, she lifted first one foot and then the other, her panties tossed aside until she stood half-naked before him. Putting her hands at her sides, she met his eyes.

  "Why are you about to get your bottom blistered?" Jeffrey asked in a stern tone.

  Greg very rarely had taken the time to ask her questions and Vance hadn't needed to hear why she felt the need for a paddling. Learning that Jeffrey conducted his disciplinary sessions differently had her almost grateful. There was no need to revisit the past, they were beginning a future of their own.

  "I didn't stay on track. Even though I did write double my requirement, I know it was garbage." She paused and shook her head. "In fact, sir, I didn't write a single word that is acceptable."

  "I want you to know that I'm extremely proud of you for being able to admit that to yourself." Jeffrey pressed his lips to the top of her head. "I hope that this lesson is taken to heart and that tomorrow when you are sitting on a tender bottom, you'll use it as an incentive to do better."

  "I hope so, too," she admitted. The confession made, the request for discipline she needed understood and accepted by him, she lowered herself across his knee after he'd parted his legs and patted his right knee. Just bending over one knee had her understanding that his leg would be trapping hers again. Bracing herself on her hands, she kicked off her sandals to be better able to brace her toes against the floor. She felt the tail of her peasant blouse being pushed off her bottom and took a deep breath.

  Smack…. smack… smack. Every stroke of his palm sounded crisp and loud in the small room. Venia pressed her lips together, determined to prove she accepted the spanking with as much dignity as possible with her bare butt draped across his knee. As the swats continued, landing on a different area of her bottom each time, she began to wiggle just a bit as the fire built in her backside. When he began again, covering the same spots he'd already swatted, she couldn't contain a soft moan. Another methodical round was completed before he paused and she thought he considered her bottom warmed.

  She squealed, her hands scrabbling for the legs of the chair when she was tilted forward.

  "Oh, please," she moaned, making her first plea as his hand swatted against the base of her cheeks, lifting her bottom to make sure the tender underneath was punished. "Ow, please, ow! That hurts!"

  "Perhaps you'll remember how it hurts when you type your new title page tomorrow." Despite her continued moans and her squirming in an attempt to have his hand strike anyplace other than her sit spots, she was not pulled back until every inch of the tender area felt as if it had been branded. Tears were streaming down her cheeks when she saw him reach for the hairbrush.

  God, she had forgotten that her session was to include more than his hand. Her ass already felt as if it were twice the size it had been before she'd gone across his lap. Hearing a soft mewling, she recognized the pathetic sound was coming from her own throat.

  "How-how many?" she asked when she felt the brush being rubbed over her heated skin.

  "As many as it takes until I've decided that you will take your agreement seriously," Jeffrey answered. Feeling his leg move to trap her own, she closed her eyes, desperately wanting to cry out that she'd already decided to try harder. However, not only had she practically begged for this session, she had agreed to accept whatever he decided. It wasn't up to her to state she felt quite punished enough. If this were to work, she needed to deliver herself into his hands, trusting that he'd never force her to accept more than she was capable of accepting.

  "Don't reach back, sweetie. I don't want to smack your hands. If you don't think you'll be able to keep them down, say 'hands' and I'll hold them for you. Do you understand?"

  "Ye-yes, sir." For a brief moment she wondered what he'd do if she shouted amphibian instead. Feeling a sense of shame suffuse her, she knew that no matter how much it hurt, she would never disrespect him like that.

  Crack… crack… crack. The brush's oval back cracked into the same exact spot at the top of her left buttock three times before moving to crack three times on her right cheek. By the time it had moved to crack against the bottom of her cheeks, not even to crack against her sit spots, she was sobbing and finally screamed, "Hands!"

  The paddling stopped instantly. "Okay, honey, reach back and give me your hands." Venia slowly uncurled her fingers from where they were cramping around the legs of the chairs and moved her
hands, one at a time, behind her. She felt her wrists being firmly held in one of his hands and pressed against her lower back. "If this becomes too much of a strain, call 'hands' again. If necessary, we can finish your punishment with you bent over the desk."

  Venia prayed that wouldn't be necessary. If she had to have her bottom turned into a blazing pyre, she much preferred it be done over his lap. When she realized he was waiting for her response, she nodded and whispered that she understood.

  At her response, the brush descended again with a loud crack… crack… crack as he began to fill in the center area of each buttock. Wailing and screeching did no good at stopping the brush's attack. Despite her efforts to swim off his lap, his hold on her hands ensured she'd remain exactly where she was, her poor hiney in the perfect position to feel every stroke of the punishment. Promises to stay on track were also ignored as the brush continued to remind her of the promise she had made to her disciplinarian. By the time she was tilted forward again, her sit spots receiving a half dozen cracks of the unforgiving maple, she felt as if she had never been so thoroughly spanked in her half century on earth.

  The brush was on the desk and she was turned to sit on his lap before she realized the awful discipline was done. Sobbing into his shirt, yelping until he positioned her to sit more on her hip than her scalded posterior, she clung to him as his arms wrapped her tightly.

  He didn't hurry her along, he didn't simply send her to the corner. Instead, he held her close, rocking her slightly as a loving parent would to offer comfort to a child. Though it took several minutes for her to stop sobbing loudly, she felt that if she'd taken an hour, his demeanor would remain the same. When she was sniffling and hiccupping, he set her up a bit and held a Kleenex he'd plucked from the box on her desk, to her nose. Accepting the help, she blew her nose and felt slightly better though she was certain her eyes looked more like a raccoon's than a middle-aged woman.