The DJ played the song ‘When I Fall in Love’ and Wynn closed her eyes as the words of the familiar song flowed through her. She’d always loved this song and truly believed every word of it. The words were so beautiful, making her feel wistful but also a bit sad because she was beginning to doubt she’d ever find that kind of devotion.
Wynn smiled at Lisa and Barb as the song ended. She hadn’t known them very long. She’d met them when she moved to town about six months ago; they worked with her in the hospital and had convinced her to come out with them tonight.
“You were really into that song. Standing there swaying to the music as if you were in a dream,” Lisa remarked with a laugh.
Wynn blushed. “I really love that song. Who doesn’t want to fall in love?”
Barb frowned at her. “You know you’ll never fall in love if you don’t give anyone a chance.”
“What do you mean? I’ve gone out with several guys since I moved here. I give them a chance.”
“Uh huh, what about Larry?”
“He was too touchy feely.”
“Way too dramatic. Is it wrong to want emotional stability in a prospective mate?”
Wynn frowned. “He was a weenie.”
“You never gave any of them much of a chance, Wynn.”
“I did too.”
“One date isn’t much of a chance. People are nervous on first dates, sometimes it takes a few to get them to loosen up and act more themselves.”
“I went out with Bob twice. Sorry… but when a guy says he can make you happy and begins planning a trip to Florida for your honeymoon on your second date it’s a little too much for me.” She frowned at her friends.
“Okay… so Bob wasn’t a long-term possibility; maybe not even short-term. My point is that you’ve got to open up or you’ll die alone.”
“Gee, thanks for the pep talk.” Wynn looked down into her empty glass. Where did the rum and Coke go when you needed a good swig?
The truth was she knew she hadn’t given any of the men she’d dated recently a real chance; her heart hadn’t been in it. How do you tell your friends that all the men you’ve met lately were missing a key ingredient? Wynn wanted a dominant personality—a take-charge kind of guy so that the possibility he might at least entertain the thought of smacking her ass was there… she wanted a daddy, not a Bob or a Larry and especially not a Charlie.
None of the men she met were Daddy material. Not that she could share with anyone outside the internet community that she fantasized about a loving man who would discipline her and cherish her… who would spank her ass when she needed it. People just wouldn’t understand. She knew Lisa and Barb wouldn’t.
“Dr. Anderson likes you,” Lisa piped in.
Wynn blinked. “He does not.”
“Yes, he does. He’s always asking after you.”
“Dr. Anderson has half the nurses in the hospital chasing him. He wouldn’t be interested in me. Besides, he lives in my apartment building—wouldn’t he have said something by now if he was interested?” Wynn pictured the handsome doctor in her mind’s eye. Six feet of dreamy masculinity… dark wavy hair… piercing brown eyes… broad shoulders. He was beautiful and he definitely came across as dominant.
Barb made a face. “That depends… have you even as much as smiled at him?”
“I dunno…” Wynn had to think for a minute; had she?
“Men need a little encouragement sometimes too.”
Wynn made a face at her friend then grinned when the song ‘Boogie Shoes’ came on. “I love this song! Let’s dance!” she cried as she moved to the dance floor.
Barb and Lisa reluctantly followed. “What is it with you and disco music?” Barb asked as she eyed the way Wynn was dancing enthusiastically.
Wynn grinned as she spun in a circle while wildly gyrating her hips. “Doesn’t it just make you want to get your groove thing on?”
Lisa laughed as the three danced together. “You are so weird.”
Brady’s eyes were drawn to the attractive woman on the dance floor. He recognized her almost at once as Bronwyn O’Malley. She was a speech therapist at the hospital where he worked and had recently moved into his apartment building.
She was really cute and he’d seen the warm way she dealt with her patients and the way her easy smile put them at ease. Wynn had a smile that lit up the whole room; it seemed to come all the way from her toes.
The fact that she also had wavy auburn hair that fell softly to her shoulders and the most beautiful green eyes he’d ever seen was an added bonus. The generous curves that filled her green knit dress would keep him up tonight. Damn, he was glad his friend John had suggested drinks at the local pub. Granted neither of them had realized it was a disco theme tonight but it was fun to watch Bronwyn move on the dance floor.
He grinned as she watched her move to the beat of ‘Boogie Shoes’ and then continued to dance through ‘Brick House.’ Her dance moves were a little spastic and she didn’t seem to notice the rhythm of the songs playing. She reminded him of a fifteen-year-old girl at her first rave… if raves played disco.
Bronwyn O’Malley could not dance to save her life but he found himself enchanted by the way she completely gave herself over to the music. What would it be like if she were to give herself over to him with the same unabashed enthusiasm?
He could almost see the scene unfold in his head… the red-haired beauty kneeling at his feet and awaiting punishment. Brady shook his head to clear it when he realized his cock was pressing against his zipper and this wasn’t exactly the proper venue.
He now had Bronwyn O’Malley firmly in his sights. He would enjoy getting to know her and finding out if she was open to the Daddy/baby girl lifestyle.
After Lisa and Barb dropped her off, Wynn grabbed her mail and eagerly made her way to her apartment. She was expecting an important email from Aiden. She almost floated up the long flight of stairs wondering if he’d emailed a time for them to meet online and chat.
Through those lengthy chats, her world had opened up to the possibilities of a D/s relationship. She’d been talking with Aiden for almost two years and had come as close to falling in love as you could without actually meeting a person.
The only problem was Aiden lived thousands of miles away in New Zealand. Funnily enough, when she’d answered his advert on a spanking site, she’d purposely chosen him because he was so far. Wynn thought that would be safer. Now she’d trapped them both with the distance.
As she sat willing the computer to hurry, an instant message popped up on the screen from ‘Sir.’
Wynn had answered Sir’s ad before she and Aiden had started to get more serious in their talks about the possibility of a future. Sir lived in the same state as Wynn. He was not interested in a relationship beyond being a disciplinarian. Wynn realized she wanted more than just an authority figure in her life. She wanted the discipline that came naturally in a D/s relationship. Surely discipline wouldn’t be as effective without caring added into the mix, right?
She didn’t talk to Sir that often anymore, but they did keep in touch every now and again. He knew all about Aiden and didn’t push to assert his authority—though he never missed an opportunity to remind Wynn that she deserved a good spanking.
Sir: How are you this evening?
SassyBrat13: I’m good.
Sir: Balancing your checkbook properly?
Sir: Been behaving?
Sassybrat13: Of course. Do you have any doubts?
Sir: Naughty girl, you are getting entirely too sassy. Maybe I should take care of that. Remember, we live close enough that I could easily take you in hand.
Sassybrat13: Aiden will take care of me.
Sir: You know where I am if you’re in need of a sound spanking, young lady.
Sassybrat13: I know… thanks, Sir. Nite.
During the time that she’d answered ads from Sir and Aiden, Wynn had also checked into a few local spanking groups. Some online friends mentioned that spanking social mixers were a good place to safely meet people and get into the spanking scene. Wynn hadn’t attended because she wasn’t sure about spanking in a group setting—it made her feel self-conscious.
She needed Aiden to remind her that she wasn’t alone. That she would never be alone.
Finally her email popped up. She smiled as the she scanned through her received mail and saw the familiar address.
Leaning forward as it opened, Wynn read eagerly. It was a long one.
My Darling Wynn,
I want to start by telling you how much you mean to me.
You are dear to my heart. I value our friendship and couldn’t bear
to lose it, but I haven’t been completely honest with you.
The thing is… I’m married. I have been for three years.
Initially, I thought the internet was a lark—a fun way to explore
fantasies that my wife wasn’t interested in. I don’t want to lose you
but I realized that I had to tell you the truth.
I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.—Aiden
Wynn couldn’t comprehend what she was reading the first time through. By the third time, it started to sink in. Aiden was married, her Aiden. Tears filled her eyes as the hopes she’d built plummeted.
Facts were facts. She was about to turn twenty-six and had never truly been in love. Not to mention that she seemed destined to have an ice-cold bottom for the rest of her life. Perhaps she’d been a fool to think she could have it all. As her Aiden fantasy crashed and burned, Wynn decided maybe it was time to just settle for what she could get.
She couldn’t face answering Aiden’s email tonight. Maybe not ever—she wasn’t exactly in a forgiving mood. Married? That rat! It hurt so deeply and he was a total ass to have led her on that way. Aiden promised forever and was married the entire time. Jerk!
She wanted to do something proactive; something to help her not hurt anymore. Her heart felt lacerated. Maybe if she just had a sound spanking she’d feel better. At least that would facilitate a good cry to let the pain go, so she could move on.
Wynn studied her buddy list. Sir was still online. Should she IM him and arrange to meet? They’d been talking for months and he came across as a nice man. They’d even chatted on the phone once and she’d enjoyed the conversation.
She toyed with the mouse, cursor poised above his screen name. Meeting a strange man was a big deal. It was really risky; what if he wasn’t as nice as he seemed?
Wynn moved the mouse and sighed. She couldn’t do it. Not today anyway. Instead she clicked the mouse over the icon for Hot Buns. They were the local spanking group that she’d considered joining before getting to know Aiden.
A mixer was scheduled for Saturday afternoon at one o’clock, with a party planned for later that evening. Could she go and meet people strictly for the purpose of getting spanked? No high hopes of a relationship there. Should she just take what she could get and be satisfied with it? Maybe she’d meet someone to have a relationship with, but the chance of that happening was slim to none.
Wynn noticed that the Hot Buns meeting would be held in a local restaurant she was familiar with. It was a credit to the group that it wasn’t common knowledge a fetish club met there. It meant they were discreet. Of course, no one would be spanked there… that would happen later at the hotel they used. The address would be shared with those who filled out applications and were accepted. It all appeared to be very safe.
With another heartfelt sigh, she signed off and shut the computer down. Her heart was too raw at the moment to decide. Perhaps her options would seem better in the morning.
With a long yawn, Wynn grabbed the stack of mail she’d brought in earlier and began to go through it. She slumped onto the couch and frowned at one of the letters stuck behind some bills. It was addressed to Dr. Braedon Anderson. They must have put it in her box by mistake.
A thoughtful look came across her face as she remembered Lisa saying that the very handsome Dr. Anderson liked her. Tapping the letter lightly against her chin, Wynn wondered. Could it be that the handsome doctor had noticed her? Maybe she should stay offline for a while and give real life a chance again. She could have a relationship without spanking, so long as the man involved wasn’t a wuss.
She pictured the good doctor. He was well respected at the hospital, had an excellent reputation, always seemed authoritative, firm with his instructions without being overbearing. Plus, their mutual patients seemed to like him well enough, so that was a good sign.
With a decisive nod Wynn set the envelope down next to her purse. In the morning when she was fresh, she’d take the letter down to Dr. Anderson and explore the possibilities.
The next morning Wynn stood outside the door of apartment 106B and waited patiently for Dr. Braedon Anderson to answer.
She felt her stomach clench as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. This was the moment of truth. She’d been online looking for romance when it could have been under her nose the whole time. One way or another, she was about to find out.
A gorgeous brunette answered the door. Wynn recognized her as Rebecca Lutz, a nurse from the hospital. A married nurse.
“Yes?” Rebecca asked with a smile.
“I… uhh… got one of Dr. Anderson’s letters by mistake. I just thought I’d drop it by,” Wynn said quietly. So much for Dr. Anderson’s interest.
Rebecca gave Wynn a teasing grin. “I’ll tell him you stopped by when he gets out of the shower. He’ll be thrilled.”
“Thanks,” Wynn replied flatly. It was bad enough she’d thought there was a chance with the illustrious doctor, without having some two-timing beautiful nurse laughing at her about it. She handed over the letter then ran back up the stairs.
Men were rats! Cheating bastards, the lot of them! She would just take what she could find because obviously true love was an illusion—at least on the male side. In the space of twenty-four hours two men that she’d really respected turned out to be nothing more than curs. Who wanted a relationship?
Even the ones who seemed good ended up as louses. Perhaps it would be better just to get what she needed without any great expectations of undying love. The man would get what he wanted and she could get what she wanted. It would be a no-lose situation.
Wynn grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter and left her apartment. She could run a few errands before meeting the Hot Buns group this afternoon for lunch.
Dr. Anderson came out of his apartment as she flew past. “How are you this morning, Wynn?”
She pointedly ignored him and kept going. I ought to ask him how Mr. Lutz is doing this morning, she thought.
With a puzzled frown, Brady watched Wynn get into her car and speed away. He’d been so pleased when Rebecca told him she’d stopped by. He’d hoped this would give him the opening he needed to get to know her but she’d completely ignored his greeting.
Hopefully he would get another chance.
Wynn nervously entered the restaurant a few minutes after one. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to locate the spanking group. She spotted a closed-off area where many people sat laughing together. That looked like a meet-and-greet type situation. A sign on the door said HOT BUNS. She blushed and looked around before entering. Hopefully people thought they were a group of bakers.
As she walked into the room, a warm hand closed over her arm. “Hello, Wynn.”
She turned and looked up into the face of Dr. Anderson. All the color fled her cheeks. “I… I… excuse me… I have to go.”
In a panic, she pulled her arm from his grasp and ran, without meeting or greeting anyone else.
Braedon Anderson was a spanko? At that point Wynn didn’t really care that much. What she worried about was that now he knew she was a spanko. It was too much to hope that he would believe she’d misunderstood the purpose of the party and was just an amateur pastry chef in the wrong place.
“Wynn… wait!” Brady was following her out of the restaurant.
She ignored his call for the second time that day as she hopped into her car. Quickly starting the motor, Wynn shot out of the parking lot like a rocket.
Brady winced as she narrowly missed a pedestrian and two parked cars in her haste to escape. Someone really needed to talk to that woman about her driving.
A task he would relish. In fact he would like to talk to her about how rude it was to ignore a civil greeting as well.
He was beginning to think there were a great many things that needed to be discussed with Miss O’Malley. She would not enjoy their conversation but if she apologized like a good little girl he would reward her for taking her punishment.
Brady sighed. He had to stop fantasizing about the speech therapist. Fantasy would get him no here and it was pretty clear she wasn’t interested.
With a shake of his head, Brady went back inside.
Wynn slapped the steering wheel in frustration as she waited at a red light. “Damn it! This can’t be happening!”
She finally decided to stop looking for fantasy and face reality—and who should be at the Hot Buns mixer but Dr. Studly from the hospital! She hadn’t worked at the hospital long and couldn’t afford for anyone to know her secret. She could lose her job! So what that she now knew his secret too.
No one would believe some newly hired speech therapist over a physician, especially one with such a prominent position at the hospital.
Wynn would just have to hope that he kept his own counsel and left her alone. If he’d just been a spanko, that would be one thing, but he obviously had no qualms about being involved with a married woman, which was quite another.
Wynn had enough to do with liars and cheaters to last a lifetime.
So… she would focus on the spanking.
When she got home, Wynn went straight to the computer. As luck would have it, Sir was online.
Sassybrat13: Hello, Sir
Sir: Hello, Sassy. How are you this fine day?
Sassybrat13: Lousy. I’m in a pissy mood and men are assholes.
Sir: Excuse me, young lady?
Sassybrat13: I said… I’m in a pissy mood and men are assholes. I need a drink.
Sir: What you need is a sound spanking.
Wynn’s tummy flipped as she studied the words dancing across the screen. It was what she wanted. What she needed… right?
Sassybrat13: You’re probably right.
Sir: That’s right. I suggest you meet me today so that this can be taken care of before you get into any more trouble.
At those words, her stomach fell to her toes. Today? Wynn reminded herself that this was what she wanted. She ignored the warning voice in the back of her head. The one that said, ‘this is dangerous’ and ‘you don’t know this man.’ She ignored it, because at the moment, she didn’t care. Wynn wanted to cry—she wanted to feel what she’d only read about.
Sassybrat13: Maybe I like being in trouble.
Sir: Meet me at four p.m. at the Barnes and Noble bookstore on Logan Road. Do not be late. I will be in the coffee shop and we can discuss your punishment then.
Sassybrat13: Yes, Sir
Sir signed off and was gone.
As she walked into the bookstore, Wynn studied the people in the coffee shop. A tall balding man with glasses in his late forties put down his newspaper and stood. “Wynn?”
She nodded and slowly approached his table. He looked like your average everyday schoolteacher. He was wearing a short-sleeved white button-up with black trousers.
He held out a hand. “I’m Clark… but you will call me Sir.”
Wynn shook his hand and then sat down in the seat he indicated as he took the seat opposite from her. “Yes, Sir.”
“Now Wynn, before this goes any further I want you to read this contract. It protects us both and if you don’t feel you can sign it, this is as far as we’ll go.” On the table in front of her he placed two crisp white pieces of paper he’d printed from the computer.
The detailed contract had blanks where her name would go if she agreed. It basically stated that she would submit to corporal punishment from this man. The length and severity of the spanking was up to him; she had no control over when or why she would be spanked. Accordingly, discipline was always up to the disciplinarian. He would use the implement of his choice, not hurt or damage her person, not bruise or mark her in any way. He would, however, spank until he felt the lesson was learned and not just until she cried or asked him to stop. There would be no safe word. This was a formal disciplinary spanking, not for fun and he was totally in charge.
She studied the contract for a few minutes, weighing her options. If signed, this official document would give him total control and yet keep her protected. Wasn’t that part of what she wanted? He promised not to hurt her, cause damage to her person, mark or bruise her—and to give the spanking he felt she deserved. So she would be safe, right? They would both be signing the contract and agreeing to the terms.
Wynn took a deep breath, printed her name in the appropriate places, then signed on the dotted line. Clark did the same.
He smiled, then folded the contract and slipped it into his pocket. As if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, Sir began talking about little everyday things. Slowly the knot in Wynn’s stomach relaxed as they chatted amicably. They conversed for almost an hour and she was beginning to feel comfortable with him.
“Now Wynn, I bet you feel you need a good spanking. Am I right?”
The question came out of nowhere. Wynn found herself glancing around a little desperately in case someone else heard him. No one even looked up. She gulped.
“I… I guess so,” she said softly.
“I mean, yes, Sir.” Her face was hot with embarrassment.
“All right then, it’s time to go.” He stood and took her hand, leading her out of the bookstore.
“Should I follow you?” she asked.
“You’ll ride with me. I’ll bring you back to your car when we’re through.”
The little voice was again screaming inside her head but she did as instructed and got into his car. The folded document in his pocket somehow convinced Wynn she was safe. Nerves almost closed her throat in the drive to his house, but now she knew there was no turning back. She was in his car. They were well down the road. It occurred to her belatedly that no one even knew where she was.
In no time, they arrived. He pulled into his garage and the door closed behind them with an ominous foreboding. Her heart was in her throat as he led her into the house. They entered what appeared to be a normal living room with regular everyday furniture. No chains hanging from the walls or whips that she could see. The knot in her stomach tightened anyway.
She watched with trepidation as he calmly carried in a straight-backed chair from the dining room and set it down in front of the bar. Then he crossed to the window and closed the blinds. Not a word was spoken as he made his preparations while she stood nervously in the center of the room. Clark left momentarily and returned with an armful of implements, which he set on the floor next to the chair within easy reach.
Wynn glanced at the floor. Various wooden spoons, a hairbrush, some paddles, a belt, a dowel rod, and several other things she didn’t recognize were all waiting to be used. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the menacing mound of implements.
She jumped when he said her name and turned toward the sound of his voice.
Clark sat down in the straight-backed chair and held a hand out to her. “Unbutton your pants, then come here.”
Her hands moved to do his bidding almost of their own volition. Hesitant footsteps carried her across the room to his side.
Almost before she knew it, she was across his knees with her pants and panties at her ankles.
His hand fell fast and hard. So fast and so hard she couldn’t even count how many times it made contact with her bottom. He scolded but she couldn’t hear what was said over the drumming in her ears and the gasping of her own voice as the pain in her backside grew.
Then he lifted her from his lap and instructed her to bend over the chair.
She hesitated as the spanking had already been far more intense than anything she could have expected.
“I decide when you’d had enough. Now bend over. Don’t make me tell you again.”
As she stared into his eyes she realized Clark had something really off about him and a knot formed in her stomach.
She was scared.
Wynn knew any further rebellion would only make things much worse so she made herself bend over the chair. She closed her eyes as she felt him reach for something behind her. She didn’t know what it was, but it soon began to fall faster and harder than anything before. Each biting jolt caused her whole body to tense with pain. Was this ever going to end? She didn’t realize until he dropped it at her head that he’d used a crop.
“I can see this spanking is long overdue.”
Wait… was he reaching for something else? Wynn jerked and yelped as each strike of the tawse fell. She felt herself drift away from the situation completely to escape the pain.
She had no idea how long the punishment lasted; it was like she’d completely blanked out. She only came back to awareness when she realized Clark wasn’t spanking her anymore. He was practically yelling at her.
“Are you listening to me, young lady?” Clark leaned in and swept loose hair back from her face. “Stay where you are.”
Wynn looked up at him as she kept her palms pressed firmly to the chair; she was afraid to move. He looked crazed; his hair had come loose from the careful comb-over and was standing up on end as if he’d been working out. His face was sweaty and the gleeful look in his eyes was sickening.
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“My instincts tell me that you haven’t had enough. That I should spank you harder so you know I mean business, naughty girl.”
“Please don’t… please no more,” she whispered hoarsely. “I can’t take it.”
He paused and looked down at her with obvious disappointment. “It’s against my better judgment, but I suppose we’re done for now.”
Wynn exhaled sharply.
“But… if you give me reason to spank again, I promise to bare that naughty bottom again and raise blisters on your butt—do you hear me?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said compliantly, not wanting to do anything to make him continue. She’d been beyond foolish to go anywhere with this man. He was sadistic and the way he was watching her so closely gave her the creeps.
“Okay, then—up.” He helped her get to her feet and watched as she righted her clothing. “Bathroom is over there. Go look at your bottom; it’s a little bruised.”
Wynn walked stiffly to the bathroom. Clark followed. “I’m coming in.”
“No, thank you,” she affirmed, hurrying to close the door before he could enter.
“Well… I’ll be waiting right here, young lady. Hurry.”
She locked the door, then dropped her pants and panties to see the damage. Wynn gasped as she looked into the mirror. A little bruised? Her backside was already a dark purple hue. It was hot, swollen, and still felt sort of numb.
Why had he wanted to come into the bathroom? What more could he do? What more would he do? This was nothing like what she’d imagined it would be. She had to get away from this man as soon as possible.
Carefully, she pulled her pants up and fastened them, then stood looking at the foolish girl in the mirror. Why had she agreed to this? Why had she signed that contract? It hadn’t protected her from anything. She really didn’t want to leave the pseudo-safety of the bathroom, but couldn’t stay there forever.
A firm knock sounded at the door. “Bronwyn, you’ve been in there long enough. Don’t make me come in after you. Perhaps I need to fetch the cane.”
In a panic, Wynn opened the door. “I’m sorry. My bottom hurts so it took a minute to get my pants up.”
He smiled at her almost indulgently. “Time for a hug.”
The last thing she wanted to do was hug this man or touch him in any way but she was afraid of not complying. Wynn hugged Clark stiffly, trying to make as little contact with him as possible.
“Ready to go back to the bookstore? Or do you want to hang around here for a bit?”
“The bookstore,” she said in a breathless rush.
“I have an appointment with another naughty young lady in a little over an hour—sure you don’t want to stay?”
“I… I need to get home.”
On the ride back, Clark talked about spanking and the rules she would need to abide by in order to avoid future punishment. He said that if he decided she deserved a spanking, she’d get one no matter what; whining would only make it worse. His rules were simple: he would give her a few days after telling her she was going to be spanked to come to him. If she did not comply, he would come to her—but in that case, she’d get the worst spanking of her life. Then he told her again that he would raise blisters on her bottom if he had to.
What was it with this man and raising blisters? Didn’t he realize how bad he’d already hurt her? How was that loving discipline? There was no caring involved—it was all about domination and pain, nothing more.
Wynn appeased Sir and told him that she understood his rules. Pleased, he dropped her at her car.
“Now drive safely, young lady.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured.
As Wynn settled into the seat of her own car, she realized that the throbbing numbness was receding, to be replaced with agonizing pain. Every shift in her seat reminded her of what she’d just gone through. During the drive home she stayed as still as she could. She drove in a sort of dreamy haze, shell-shocked and unable to believe the events of the last few hours, but thankful to be alive.