A hard spanking. The belt. Maybe a thick wooden paddle. A switch cut from the shrubs located outside of her apartment. Smacking her ass, the tops of her thighs, even her pussy. That’s exactly what she needed. Jenna Parker’s hands were shaking. Why was she thinking about this now? Oh, yeah, because she’d had the nerve to ask her soon-to-be-tossed-out-the-door boyfriend if he’d consider spanking her on a regular basis. After his laugh, the pointing finger, she’d bothered to ask him to come with her to a single event. One time. His answer?
“No, I’m not coming with you. I have better things to do. By the way, I never knew how sick you were. Disgusting.”
The ugly words reverberated in the back of her mind. Fine. She didn’t need him. At the rate she’d been going through the various men in her life, she was destined to be alone.
For the rest of her life.
Coerced into attending one hot barbecue. Fantastic. Maybe. Jenna groaned as she eased out of her car, smoothing down her dress and trying not to glare at the quaint house with the beautiful landscaping, including perfectly positioned lighting lining the stone walkway. She closed the door and hesitated, trying to convince herself that attending the party was going to be fun. Unfortunately, she was without a date, the concept a perceived requirement among her friends. Her pseudo boyfriend had decided to attend a golf outing with his buddies, leaving her in the lurch at the last minute.
Cursing wasn’t going to do any good or put her in a better mood. Rolling her eyes, she plastered on a smile as she headed toward the front door. Her best friend and the girl who’d introduced her to bar top dancing was off the market, having found and married the love of her life. Sure, Mark was a good guy, sexy as hell and built in all the right places. He also had a damn good job as an attorney for an up and coming firm in town. Jenna envisioned two perfect children in their future and a Golden Retriever waiting to greet them every night.
Meanwhile, she had nothing.
Okay, so grousing wasn’t going to get her anywhere either. She was a fabulous catch and it was just a matter of time before some hot guy figured that out. But then? Right. They’d figure out she was from the wrong side of the tracks and dump her like the rest of the holier than thou assholes she’d allowed into her life. Hold your head high, girl. You are something special. The mantra wasn’t working today.
She studied the various vehicles parked along the street in front of Camie’s house, recognizing at least four. As she walked toward the front door, she realized that every single one of her friends from high school and college were either already married or engaged. In fact, she had a closet full of bridesmaid dresses, frilly bullshit she’d never be able to wear again, but a constant reminder that she was all alone. The ugly dresses had almost broken her limited bank account. And with every wedding, there’d been promises of meeting the ‘right’ guy. There wasn’t such a dude on the planet.
“Stop it,” she whispered under her breath and tapped on the front door. She waited, not so patiently as she scanned the street, her thoughts drifting to the current flavor of the month. Steve was an okay guy, even though he enjoyed tossing out that he was a ‘younger man.’ Right, by a single year. He’d never be the one, especially since her idea of the perfect man had the word ‘domination’ attached.
Something wicked this way comes.
Why was she thinking in movie metaphors?
Jenna brushed her hand through her hair and knocked again. A raucous laugh drew her attention to the back of the house. Everyone was partying on the deck, or by the recently installed pool. Her mouth pinched, she headed toward the back, making certain she didn’t step on any of the colorful flowers or perfectly pristine shrubs. Camie had landed herself the kind of husband every woman searched for. Good-looking, friendly, funny, and on his way to being rich. As she rounded the corner of the house, her eyes sweeping the expansive pool decking, she was forced to remind herself that she was just as successful as the rest of her friends.
Liar. Liar. Pants on fire.
Her nasty little voice was at it again, a constant reminder of her shortcomings. She had a great job, even though she was just an administrative assistant for a large corporation. Still, the benefits were fantastic, and she had the ability to move up—at some point. When she paid her dues. However, at almost twenty-seven, the self-doubt that she’d ever find the right man had taken a firm hold. She wanted a family more than anything.
“There you are.” Her best friend in the world sauntered toward her, her usually coiffed hair in disarray.
Camie gripped her arm the second Jenna walked through the gate. “I thought you’d never get here. What a day.”
“You seem exasperated.” Jenna kept her fake smile as she was led toward the massive deck. Everything was far too vibrant from the colorful poolside chairs to the string of balloon-style lights hanging over the turquoise blue water.
“I can never seem to get everything done in time. You know my schedule and you know how Mark is. Perfect.”
“And you’re not?” Jenna gave her a squeeze, genuinely glad to see her.
“Not according to my perfect husband. Let’s get you a drink. Dani and Maggie are here. Shelia is on her way.”
“Great,” Jenna muttered under her breath. She’d be forced to compare notes about how well life was going.
“Oh, come on. We haven’t been able to party in almost a month. I called you twice.”
Jenna shrugged. “Just work is keeping me busy.”
“All work and no fun, girl. Even I manage to get away from my job from time to time. Where’s pretty boy?”
She shook her head as Camie led her toward the makeshift bar, situated less than ten feet from a sparkling stainless-steel grill that no doubt cost more than her monthly rent. Camie had never liked Steve, likening the dark-haired God wannabe to a doorstop. “He’s not coming. Golf thing with his buddies.” Jerkoff. Asshole. Creep. The words rushed into the back of her mind.
“Figures. Have you ever noticed he never attends any of our parties? Why don’t you get rid of him? Seriously. He’s not your type. In fact, he’s a loser. Wine or beer?”
“You’re right. He is a loser. Beer, I guess,” Jenna said under her breath. No, Steve had a dislike for her friends, calling them needy, among other things. Another source of their disagreements. She smiled as Mark walked closer. As usual, Camie’s husband was dressed to the nines even for a pool party. No doubt the intrinsic board shorts came from one of the most expensive men’s clothing stores in town. He was the epitome of ‘keeping up with the Joneses.’
“Hey, Jenna. Good to see you.” Mark smiled for about five seconds before narrowing his eyes, issuing Camie an authoritative glare. “Is everything ready?”
Mark was organized and had very particular ways of doing things. Jenna could see a hint of dissention between them, as if they’d been arguing earlier. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Camie handed her a cold bottle of beer, her attention directed toward Mark. “I think so. What do you need, honey?”
Jenna could tell Camie’s smile was forced and noticed the bead of perspiration trickling down one side of her friend’s face. There was trouble in paradise.
“Exactly what I told you three times before,” Mark stated, keeping his upturned smile.
“And I told you more than once the platters were in the garage refrigerator. All ready. Waiting for you,” Camie snapped before placing two fingers over her mouth.
Jenna darted her eyes back and forth between the two. They’d obviously been arguing long before the party began. “Do you need any help?”
“No!” both Camie and Mark said at the same time. Then Camie softened her expression. “Just go and enjoy yourself. Burgers will be ready in just a little while.”
“Okay. If you’re certain.” Jenna gave them another look before slowly walking away. Somehow, she had the feeling the rather terse conversation was going to continue. She headed straight for the empty table. Being peppered with the usual questions would push her pissed-off mood into overdrive.
When are you and Steve getting married?
Have you talked about kids?
How much money does he make?
At this point, she couldn’t give two shits. Jenna grinned at the thought and swayed to the music. After a few minutes, she felt more at ease, ready to relax and have a good time.
“Girlie. There you are. We thought we were going to have to hire a search party.” Maggie’s voice was more like a seductive purr as she closed the distance.
“Funny. Just had a few things to do this morning.” Jenna continued watching Camie and Mark, the disagreement obviously escalating. She didn’t have to hear what they were saying to know the conversation had moved into the ugly zone.
Maggie followed her gaze. “They’ve been at each other’s throats since I got here. Wonder what’s up?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t talked to her in a week.”
“Basking in romance?” she teased.
Jenna had to resist spouting off the truth. “Just work.” She opened her eyes wide when she could hear a few of the now nasty words shared between Camie and Mark. “Maybe having a relationship isn’t what I need.”
“Oh, they’ll work it out. They always do.”
She narrowed her eyes, able to see an almost instant change in Camie’s demeanor the second Mark gripped her arms. However, the hold wasn’t done out of anger. In fact, he was calm and controlled, his expression nurturing. What in the hell? Now, Camie was nodding. Then she lowered her head. When Mark released her, taking solid steps toward the patio door, she inched closer. Camie waited only a couple of seconds before following him inside, closing the door behind her.
“Come on. Bunch of people I’d like you to meet,” Maggie encouraged.
“I’ll be there in just a minute. I just need to use the restroom.” Jenna thought about her last conversation with Camie. While her friend was ecstatic given the recent marriage, she was also subdued in a manner Jenna had never experienced, as if she were a different person. She rounded the pool, darting glances at the other guests. No one was paying any attention to the unfolding drama. As she walked closer to the grill, she could tell the burners had been turned off.
They’d taken their argument inside, expecting to be a while? Hmmm… More than curious, she opened the patio door slowly, listening for any sounds. The last thing she wanted to do was walk in on them. Hearing nothing, she closed the door behind her and inched into the kitchen, able to see the den from where she stood. They were nowhere to be seen.
This was unusual, given there were a solid thirty people outside. What could they be doing? Getting everything from the other refrigerator? That had to be it. Determined to offer some form of assistance, if only to relieve the obvious stress they were both under, she walked into the den, expecting to see the garage door open. A muffled noise drew her attention. Drawn to the hallway, she took a few steps in the direction then stopped. This was invading their privacy.
The sound occurred again, only this time not as muffled. The distinct whimper was followed by a whooshing sound then a thwack. There was no other way to describe the noise. She slunk along the wall, determined to find the source.
Jenna jumped, tingling all over. The closer she came, the easier it was to comprehend what she was hearing. The distinct and unforgettable sounds of a hard spanking being issued. What the… Gulping air, she calmed her nerves before closing the distance. The way the bedroom furniture was positioned, a dresser on the far wall, a mirror attached to the back, she was able to see very clearly the fact that Camie was positioned over a pile of pillows in the middle of the bed, her naked and already reddened ass positioned just so. Standing with a belt in his hand was Mark, whispering words she was unable to hear then issuing several hard smacks across Camie’s ass cheeks and upper thighs.
Mortified as well as turned on, she was frozen to the spot, a voyeur watching her best friend being treated like a bad little girl. The man held a belt. He was spanking his wife. He was…
Just the way you want and exactly what you need. A firm hand. A daddy dom.
Jesus Christ. She was hot and wet all over. Her damning little voice was active, chiding her as she pressed the back of her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. As the belt was swung, she concentrated on the sound, the way Mark wielded the strap as if practiced, his love easy to see in every hard strike. She was witnessing a man who adored his wife.
Discipline and punishment are necessary for a happy marriage. All women thrive with a firm hand.
She’d read that in one of the many blogs she devoured, trying to gather a sense of what she could expect if the right man ever came along.
Steve would never understand, nor would she trust him enough to enter into that kind of relationship. Why couldn’t she find this kind of amazing man? Why couldn’t she share this kind of life?
Because men like this were few and far between.
The discipline continued, and she was drawn to the experience in a way she would never be able to explain. This was everything she’d ever craved, a desire so all-consuming that not a single relationship had endured more than a few months. As Camie’s ass was turned a bright red, the deep blush no doubt painful, she imagined herself lying in her friend’s position, accepting her punishment for disobeying.
For being a bad little girl.
Oh, my God. Oh, my freaking God.
She was sweating, every part of her body quivering as the punishment continued, several additional strikes of the belt issued. Her heart was thumping, beating against her chest, sending echoes into her ears. The only words she was able to capture was ‘you can be a good girl’ and ‘this will help you focus.’ Focus? How could Camie focus when she wasn’t going to be able to sit comfortably for hours. Days. Weeks!
Jenna’s stomach hurt, forcing her to double over. This was insane. Her bestest friend in the entire world was being spanked in the middle of a party? Camie was the last woman she’d ever thought would enter into this kind of a relationship. They’d never discussed anything of this nature. Ever. Not during their rounds of heavy drinking in college or their lewd admittances during girl games with others. Nothing. Not a word. Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d remembered one time, after watching a raunchy movie that she mentioned something about a spanking. The rest of the conversation was lost in an alcoholic haze.
Feeling faint, she swayed back and forth, blinking in a feeble attempt to focus. She would never be able to look them in the eyes again. Never.
When Mark pulled Camie into a standing position, cradling her in his arms, a split second look was all Jenna needed to realize her friend realized she was watching. Dear God. She took several steps backward. How would she ever be able to look her friend in the face again?
* * *
Spankings. Spankings. Belt whippings. Over the knee spankings. Hand spankings. Paddles. Canes. Leather straps.
Jenna dropped her head into her hands, concentrating on her foot tapping on the floor as she waited. Since witnessing the very intimate act at Camie’s, she hadn’t been able to get the incident out of her mind. Her dreams had turned into fantasies, requiring her to pull out not one but two different vibrators—one for her ass, one for her pussy. Every excuse she’d used with Steve to keep him out of her apartment had been easy to say. Easy to lie. Being alone had given her time to think about their relationship. When he’d texted her, breaking it off, she didn’t even shed a tear. Not a single one.
“Hey there. Glad you could meet me for lunch.”
Camie’s voice was way too cheerful. Lifting her head, she could feel the heat immediately rising from her neck onto her cheeks. She fanned her face then reached for the glass of water, almost turning it over. She’d ceremoniously managed, and with some difficulty, to keep some distance between herself, Camie, and Mark during the remainder of the party. Now?
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Hi. How’s work going?” The struggle in Jenna’s voice was oh-so apparent.
Camie laughed as she sat down, dropping her purse onto the floor, wincing as she tried to get herself comfortable. “Work is just driving me insane, but you know I didn’t invite you out to lunch to discuss my ever-evolving career.”
“Do we need a drink for this?” Jenna managed. She couldn’t help but notice her BFF’s careful moves on the chair. Another spanking? A series of visions popped into her periphery of vision, in bold and vivid color, accentuating the details of one. Hard. Spanking.
She laughed as she flagged down the waiter. “Two glasses of your finest Sauvignon Blanc.”
“Very good,” the waiter said, darting his approving gaze from one to the other.
“Uh-oh. You’re getting a divorce,” Jenna half whispered.
“Uh. No. Mark and I are happier than ever.” Her look was filled with passion and love. “Our anniversary is a little over four weeks away. Hard to believe.”
And now she wanted to scratch her bestie’s eyes out with a dull spoon. “You could have fooled me the other day. You guys didn’t seem happy at all.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Camie leaned over the table, her eyes twinkling. “What you witnessed—”
“Was none of my business,” Jenna interrupted, throwing up her hand. She’d been admonishing herself since Saturday, reliving the moment over and over again.
Camie burst into laughter. “You’re my best friend. I have no problem with what you saw the other day. I should have told you certain particulars about my relationship with Mark.”
“You two are… I mean, you guys… I mean… Hell, where is that damn wine?” Jenna had no doubt she’d down the glass in thirty seconds flat.
“Goofy. Your face is flushed. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I was out of line and punished for my actions. I deserved the belt. We use spankings quite often in our house and I’m always on the receiving end.”
“Spankings? What about equality?” She realized the question was asked with far too much volume, interrupting the older couple sitting less than three feet away. She gave them a half smile, even though her eyes were an easy read—leave it the hell alone.
“Yes. I get three or four a week, sometimes more, depending. You know two people can’t run a corporation effectively. One has to take the lead and Mark is head of the household. He doles out spankings as necessary. Like last night. He found out I overspent my allowance and ouchie is all I can say.” Camie grinned.
“TMI, thank you very much.”
“Oh, come on. You’re a grown adult. We all have certain rules to follow, whether from our employer or laws of the county and state. If we break them, we’re punished. Granted, I’d prefer not to receive a spanking in the middle of a party, but I egged him on, refusing to back down.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, not really.” Why was this so difficult for her? Jenna wrinkled her nose.
“You witnessed our argument. I was cranky. No, I was a bitch.”
“So was he. I mean, he was an asshole.”
“But he’s in charge. He runs the household. I live by certain rules including the fact I don’t continue nagging him or arguing, which is exactly what I did,” Camie insisted. “So, he took matters into his own hands. Calmed things down. Didn’t you notice how lovey-dovey we were the rest of the party?”
Jenna could feel herself pale. “I was trying to stay as far away from the both of you as humanly possible.”
Camie rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t embarrassed, and neither was Mark.”
The waiter brought the wine and as soon as he opened his mouth, Jenna waved her hand. “Not now, sugar. We need time. Lots of time. Get it?” she snapped.
The young blond backed away, his hands in the air.
“Jesus, girl. What’s eating you, the fact you witnessed your bestie receiving a spanking or the fact that you don’t have anyone who cares enough to give you exactly what you need? And what you deserve, I might add.”
She opened her mouth to retort then allowed a slow hiss to escape from her throat. “I don’t want that kind of relationship.” Her words were stilted. “Never. Not going to happen. Ever. Not in my lifetime.”
“Me thinks you doth protest too much.”
“Very funny.” Jenna took a sip then a gulp of her wine.
“Ask me anything because I know you’re interested in learning.” Camie grinned as she swirled the tip of her finger around the rim of her glass.
“What do you mean, you know I’m interested in learning?”
She continued toying with the wine, her expression full of mischief. “Well, I was able to see your face the other day. A mixture of horror and desire. Second, you don’t remember our conversations?”
“What conversations?” Her thoughts drifted back to the infamous night six years before. She would never drink tequila again.
“Friday nights. Bottle of tequila and a pizza. Remember?”
“Well, duh. Of course I remember. We’d talk about the various stud muffins in our classes.” Please don’t remember. Please.
“Speak for yourself. The guys in my classes were all geeks.”
“With the exception of Mark. Wasn’t he the football captain?” Jenna teased, appreciating the slight blush on her friend’s face.
“Love at first sight. Do you know, he told me on our second date that he believed in domestic discipline? By the third, he had me over his knees in the back of his car, spanking me until I cried. I knew he was the one for me after that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jenna asked, trying her best to keep her voice down.
“Well, I kind of did. I can’t believe you don’t remember that. We were watching that horrible movie with a spanking scene? Remember now? You admitted that you wanted a dominating man who could keep you in line. And authority figure. And yes, the concept of discipline and spankings came up more than once. That’s why seeing you with Steve makes me want to gag.”
“I remember the dreadful movie, but the rest is a huge blur.” Maybe she had said that. The words were certainly the truth.
Camie winked. “Uh-huh. You’re a terrible liar. I remember everything that you told me, girlfriend and I plan on holding it over your head for the rest of your life.”
They laughed, the ice broken. “You’re really happy with the arrangement?” Jenna asked.
“Ecstatic and our love life is out of this world. We have sex at least six times a week, sometimes more depending. Hot, passionate, wild sex, the kind that keeps my pussy sore, my knees weak.”
“Don’t make me vomit. Please.”
This time, she rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I wanted to give you a piece of advice.”
“Uh-oh. Here it comes.”
“I’m serious,” Camie huffed. “I want you happy and Steve isn’t going to do that for you.”
“Don’t have to worry about him any longer.” Jenna was unable to stop her fit of giggles.
“Don’t get too excited. Yes. In classic Steve form, he broke up with me over the phone. He said something to the effect that I was beneath him. Asshole.”
Camie groaned. “What a prick. Couldn’t even say the words face to face?”
“No. He couldn’t say them, period. He texted them.”
“I should kick his motherfuckin’ ass.”
“I would help you.” Jenna realized she was actually happy he’d chickened out. “I’m glad he’s gone.”
“That makes two of us. Now, you can find the dominating man you need. A firm hand will do you wonders.”
Jenna took another sip of her wine, this time savoring the flavor. “I don’t want a relationship. I need me time for a little while. A long time. Maybe forever. I don’t know what I need.”
“Except for a firm hand. Besides, I know the truth and as soon as the right man peels away all those layers you have, you’re free to enjoy life.” She shook her head. “But I’m proud of you for wanting to get everything out of the life you’ve been working so hard to achieve before you settle down. Good girl. However, finding a hunk with a heart of gold and a keenness for discipline would spark the vixen in you.”
Spark the vixen. Maybe she needed a hard kick to rev her engines of complacency. She sat back in the seat, swinging her leg. “That may be true but what am I supposed to do, call 1-800-Rent a Dom?”
“Not a bad idea, if you ask me.” Camie held up her finger before pulling out her phone. “I have an idea.”
“Do I really want to ask?”
“Hold on. Let me look.” Camie hummed as she searched the net. “Here we go. I knew I was right.”
She handed Jenna the phone. “Maybe you don’t need a full relationship right now to secure everything your heart desires. They have legitimate companies who provide this kind of thing.”
As Jenna glanced at the screen, reading the words, the services provided, she wanted to slide under the chair.
We provide discreet spankings for the discriminating palate at reasonable prices.
Belts. Canes. Paddles, Switches. Sweat began to form over her mouth. “No way. I’m not using a spanking service. I will never go over the lap of some stranger. Not going to happen.” Hearing a fork drop, several coughs, and a disgusted exclamation, she closed her eyes. “Perfect. Now, everyone knows.”
“Not everyone,” Camie said, laughing. “Come on. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. Besides, I’ve heard these places are great. A little expensive but not bad for what you receive.”
“Which is what?”
“A disciplinarian for hire. A dom picked out with you in mind. You can even call him Daddy. I’ll loan you some money if you need.”
“No thank you on both counts. Whatever I decide I will do myself.” Coughing, a string of drool slid out of her mouth. She grabbed her napkin, wiping it away nonchalantly then chugged the remainder of wine. Yes, she had to go back to work and no, her boss wasn’t the kind of guy who would chastise her in any manner.
“Come on. You know this would be good for you,” Camie chided. “That’s what you want, someone to take care of you in a different manner. No strings attached.”
“Not a chance in hell.” To take care of her? No man could effectively do that. She was firmly convinced.
Jenna looked for the waiter, her impatience growing. “Admit what?”
“That you. Need. A. Hard. Spanking.”
She glared at her BFF, narrowing her eyes. “Nope. I’m fine. I’m just dandy in fact.”
“Uh-huh. If you say so.” Camie had a shit-eating grin on her face as she slid the phone across the table, the website still on the screen. “You’re mouthy. Unruly. You have a temper and you allow stress to get the better of you. All of that can be taken care of with weekly, if not daily maintenance sessions. At least consider finding someone you can trust or placing that ad. How about Craigslist?”
“Wackos and weirdos. That’s what. I don’t want to end up on the front page as the latest serial killer victim.”
“You are so melodramatic. A strict dom can help you with that as well.” She laughed again, placing her fingers over her mouth. “And all kidding aside. Why don’t you develop a profile on SubmissiveLife and put out some feelers?”
She’d heard about the internet site dedicated to those who were curious about or living a dominant-submissive lifestyle. Her fear of the unknown had kept her from considering, even though her curiosity was piqued. “More whack jobs.”
“There are idiots and assholes everywhere, but at least you have an opportunity to vet out various doms while hiding behind the computer screen. You can talk to other submissives, find out what works for them. Plenty of decent information on the site as well.” Camie held a knowing smile on her face.
“And how do you know so much about SubmissiveLife?” Jenna shook her head.
“We’ll just leave it that I do, and with Mark’s permission. You can find the perfect daddy figure, a man who will love you and care for you, protect you and most important of all, punish you as necessary.”
“Over my dead body.” Maintenance sessions. A strict dom. Regular spankings. No. No! As the waiter finally headed in their direction, all Jenna could think about was finding someone to give her a well needed round of punishment.
After all, she was a very bad little girl.