During the next few Wednesdays, I'll be spotlighting the individual stories in Coming to Terms. Why? Well, because all seven of the stories in this domestic discipline anthology are different and wonderful in their own little ways. I'm excited to begin this week with "Spank and Run" by Renee Rose:
"Spank and Run" blurb:
One moment Claire's life was perfectly normal, in a living alone, vanilla sort of way. In the next, her casita was torn apart in a burglary, her client (the mayor of her small town) discovered her spanking implements, and she was over his knee for a bare-bottomed hair brushing! But despite her overwhelming attraction to Luis Valdez, the tall, handsome politician who had taken an interest in her backside, Claire doesn't roll that way. She wants a serious, domestic discipline relationship -- not just erotic spanky fun. Can she and the mayor come to terms?
The mayor was staring at her with glittering eyes, flexing her leather paddle in an authoritative way that made her knees go weak. His question indicated an understanding of dominant/submissive relationships, which had derailed her embarrassment and sent her rocketing instead to confused wonderment. It appeared Mayor Luis knew his way around a paddle.
And she could not absorb that information and simultaneously come up with any kind of witty response to his question. “What do you think?” she managed to choke out, in attempt at flippancy.
“I think,” he said slowly with the same intense dark look, “that someone's going to get a long, hard, bare-bottomed spanking tonight over her personal safety lapse this evening.”
She swallowed and licked her lips, feeling her heart pulsing through her entire body, a loud thrumming that made her feel like she was spinning.
The mayor wanted to spank her.
The doorbell rang, saving her from answering. She literally sprinted to the door, pulling out the chair Luis had wedged under the handle and flinging it open.
“I got it,” Luis said, appearing behind her with his wallet out.
“No, I'm paying,” she insisted. He was doing her the favor here, after all.
“No arguments,” he said firmly and her mind shot to the image of him flexing her paddle. He had already thrust several bills in the face of the delivery girl and she was pocketing them with a wave of thanks.
She took the pizza from his hands and carried it to her tiny kitchen. Her belly was a mess of nerves. Reason had mastered desire and she was giving herself a stern talking to over the wisdom of getting involved with the mayor. They hardly knew each other, for one thing. For another, she was not interested in a “play partner” for her kink. She'd been in a domestic discipline relationship with her live-in boyfriend when she'd acquired those implements, and she didn't plan on using them again until she was in the same situation. She knew there were lots of people who satisfied their interest in spanking by attending parties or BDSM events, but that wasn't her. She could never bare her butt to a room full of people, or get spanked by someone who wasn't her committed partner. So just because she and the mayor shared an…unusual interest…didn't mean she needed to get involved with him.
She set the pizza on the table and pulled out two plates. Luis picked up a bottle of red wine on her counter. “May I open this?”
Oh God. He was trying to seduce her.
“Sure,” she said, her voice too high pitched. She would just have to tell him she didn't get involved with clients.
She pulled out two wine glasses and her fingers fumbled, dropping one. She jumped back as it shattered on the floor. “Oh!” she cried and crouched down to pick up the glass. Tossing the larger shards in the trash, she retrieved a broom and dustpan while the mayor calmly pulled out another wine glass and poured two glasses of wine. When she'd cleared the remaining debris, he handed her a glass.
“You're nervous about your spanking,” he observed in a soft, silky voice.
She tried to speak, but found her mouth was too dry and no words came to mind. Luis stepped closer to her and she stumbled back.
“You're not sure if you're going to let me or not.”
She could feel her heart beating in the backs of her knees. He took another step closer and she had nowhere to retreat, already backed against the kitchen counter.
“You want it, and you don't want it at the same time.” His husky voice was mesmerizing. He took the wine glass from her hand, set it on the counter and took one more step into her, his body now pressing against hers, his head bent close to her face. Her breath was coming in little more than pants now as she stared at him, immobilized with shock at his bold onslaught.
“You know the release would do you good,” he coaxed. “You can trust me, Clara.”
He took her hand and stepped away, tugging her gently to follow. “Come on,” he said. “Don't be afraid.”
The mature part of her that had planned to shut him down was overpowered by the little girl who wanted to be called naughty and made to submit. She followed him obediently to the bedroom, her hand hot and clammy in his larger palm. He sat on the bed and pulled her gently over his lap. He gave her three hard, slow slaps over her pants and then slowly peeled her leggings down, thankfully leaving her panties in place. She could feel the dampness growing between her legs and an insistent thrum in her pussy.
The fact was, she wanted a spanking. She was dying for a proper spanking. And there was no one on earth who seemed more perfect for the job than Mayor Valdez. He was hot, available and exuded male authority. And to top it off, he actually appeared to know what he was doing, unlike her ex-boyfriend, who she had pushed into the whole domestic discipline arrangement and who never really took to leading her.
Oh. The feel of his hand on her bare skin was so satisfying. He went slowly, allowing the burn to set in before delivering the next smack, connecting with the place where bottom met thigh every time.
Though he hadn't told her what her punishment would be, she found herself counting, sinking into the methodical rhythm he was setting. She was squirming and kicking from the pain by the time he reached one hundred and finally stopped to rub her burning backside. She moaned and was embarrassed to hear a wanton note to her voice.
“How long has it been since you've been spanked, Claire?” Luis asked softly.
“Two years,” she squeaked.
He continued to rub. “Two years,” he mused. “I should go easy on you. Except I think, under the stressful circumstances, tears could be beneficial.” He stroked the back of her head and then tugged her hair gently, cuing her to turn her face toward him. “What do you think?”
It was an impossible question to answer. Did she want him to spank her to tears? Yes. No. Absolutely not. The spasm between her legs said differently.
Be sure to return next week for an excerpt from "Tomorrow" by Anastasia Vitsky!