A Thousand Yesses (6 page)

Maverick
groaned. “That, Nadia, was called a
swat.
It’s what happens when you get
spanked.
I didn’t even swat you as hard as I would have if this were
real. That was at about thirty percent. This paddle is
pine
and covered
with leather. They don’t make them much lighter or sensual than that.” He
looked up at Celia.

“Round
two?” he asked with a sigh. She nodded, barely stifling a snicker. She looked
again at Nadia.
Wimp.

He
tried for a second time, this time swinging more lightly. It was
too
light,
Celia thought, hardly enough of a swing to be even close to realistic. Again,
Nadia jerked and swore, and this time, she swung her legs off his lap.

Bewildered,
Maverick let her up and stared. “Really?” he said. “Too much?”

“Too
much?” Nadia shrieked. “That was ridiculous! What do you think I am, made of
steel?”

He
blinked. Celia lost her patience. She shut the camera off.

“That
was hardly enough of a swat to harm a fly,” she scoffed. “Jesus, I’ve slapped
dust off my jeans harder than that. And what the hell do you think you came
for? To be tickled?”

Maverick’s
eyes glittered with amusement, but Rodney came from the back, hands out in a
placating gesture.

“Ladies,
ladies,” he said. “Okay, Nadia, maybe this isn’t for you.”

But
she was already putting on her coat and heading for the door. Celia noticed
with satisfaction that her backside still showed the faintest red mark of a
paddle just under her too-high skirt.

I
hope she has to go to Walmart or something on the way home.
She barely stifled a giggle as her eyes
met Maverick’s across the room. He was staring at her, challenging, his eyes
dark and brooding. Still holding the paddle in his hand, he turned away.

“Betsy,
right?” he said, pointing to the blonde. “You want to try next?”

Betsy
stepped forward, her braids swinging from side to side as she approached him.
She put a finger to her mouth, and looked up at him with large, doleful eyes.
“Yes, please,” she said. “May I bring my teddy?”

Maverick
blinked. “No teddy,” he said.

Betsy
frowned. “I’ve never been spanked without my teddy,” she said in a whiny voice.
“Daddy always lets me have him.”

Maverick
frowned back. His eyes went to Celia, asking a silent question. She bit her
cheek to keep from laughing, as Maverick turned back to Betsy. “I’m not Daddy.”
His brow furrowed. “And does Daddy know you’re here?”

She
bit her lip. “Well, no. But I thought it would be a nice birthday present,” she
said. “To show Daddy a nice video.”

Maverick
cleared his throat. “Um, yeah. Betsy, I’m not sure allowing another Dom to
spank you without Daddy’s permission is a very good idea.”

Her
face fell. “Oh. Okay, yeah, I didn’t think of it that way. Maybe you’re right.”
She grabbed her sweater and skipped to the door.

“Dropping
off like flies,” Rodney muttered to Louanne.

“Well,
we only really need a few good sessions,” she said.

Rodney
waggled his eyebrows at Louanne. Shaking her head vehemently, she hissed “No
way, Jose.
Uh uh.
Ain’t happening.”

“I
don’t mean
Maverick,”
he said. “I mean
me
. C’mon, honey, you know
our sessions are great.”

She
shook her head, wide-eyed, her mouth open a little. “Can’t do it!”

He
nodded and sighed.

“We
still have... um... the third submissive,” Celia interjected, pointing to the
large woman with
jet black
hair and heavy makeup.

Celia
looked to Maverick. He was frowning, and looked damn ready to deliver a good
spanking. Oh, God.

“Your
name?” he asked sternly. The woman stood, and walked on shiny black platform
shoes to where he sat.
Clunk, clunk, clunk.

“Misty,”
she said in a deep voice.

Maverick
looked back to Celia, shooting her a look that plainly said, “Good one.” He
turned to Misty. “Are you ready, Misty?”

She
nodded. “Fuck yeah,” she said, in a voice almost as deep as Maverick’s. “But
can I have a smoke first?”

Maverick’s
jaw clenched. “I don’t want to smell cigarettes when I spank you,” he said
through gritted teeth. “So, no. But if we get this over with quickly, you can
have at it.”

She
nodded. “Fine,” and without another word, she plunked herself bodily over his
lap. He gasped from the weight of her.

“Misty,”
he said in a strangled voice. “I didn’t tell you to get over my knees yet.”

“Oh
yeah?” she tossed over her shoulder. “Then spank me for it.”

He
lifted the paddle, clearly exasperated, and to Celia’s shock, let loose a hard,
stinging swat with the paddle. “Get off my lap!” he ordered.

She
wiggled her bottom. “Mmm,” she said. “Now that’s what I call a spank. That
other girl didn’t know what she was missing.” She reluctantly got off his lap.

Louanne
was staring with wide eyes. Rodney’s head was buried in his hands. Celia stared
at Maverick.

“Yeah,
um...” he said, eyeing the large woman. “I think it’s time to demonstrate a
spanking in a different position. Many prefer over a chair, bed, or sofa.”

“Anything
you say, sir,” she growled and moved to lie over the arm of the sofa.

Rodney
covered a laugh with a cough, but Louanne just kept staring. She looked at
Celia and shook her head. Celia knew exactly what she meant. This was not what
they were going for.

Maverick
stood, and indicated to her that he was ready to begin. Celia started filming.

“Evening,
ladies and gentlemen,” he began. “Although I typically administer a spanking
with my submissive over my lap, other dominants prefer alternative positions.
There are many reasons for this. For one, some feel it enhances the punitive
effect of a real spanking when delivered in a position removed from the
dominant. Second, positioning a submissive differently allows for a larger
variety of implements to be used. Things like belts and canes are difficult to
use while over the knee. Tonight, I’ll demonstrate a paddling.”

He
lifted the leather paddle, and began to lecture. “I told you to be home on time
tonight, young lady. You know what happens to little girls who disobey.”

Celia
grimaced. This was hardly a little girl. Gosh, she could take
Maverick
.

He
lifted back the paddle and let it loose, far harder than he had when he spanked
Nadia. Misty didn’t even flinch. He reared back again, and delivered another
searing swat. Again, she didn’t flinch. Half a dozen more spanks, and she
didn’t react at all. At that point, Celia was clenching in sympathy. A spanking
like that delivered by Maverick would have her yelping. What the hell would he
have to do to get a reaction? He delivered another hard spank, and finally,
Misty turned to him.

“Harder!”
she barked out. “You call that a spanking?”

He
closed his eyes and indicated for Celia to pause the camera. He exhaled
patiently. “Misty,” he began, “you’re not supposed to tell me what to do.”

She
looked over her shoulder, her long black hair swinging in front of her face.
“Well, when are you gonna deliver the real deal?”

His
jaw clenched, and he indicated for Celia to begin filming again. Celia’s breath
hitched. Uh oh. She’d seen that look on his face before.

Easy,
Maverick!
She pleaded
silently. Was he really going to let this girl have it? Not a good idea.
Not
a good idea!

His
eyes glittered as he looked at the camera, then he turned and looked back to
Misty. “You know I expect you to obey me, young lady,” he began. To Celia’s
shock, his hands went to his waist, and he unfastened his belt. He pulled it
out of the loops, and doubled it over. Celia felt lightheaded. He was
not
going
to spank her with his
belt.

Rodney
looked at her curiously. This was not part of the plan. He shrugged, while she
did everything she possibly could to stay focused and ignore Rodney’s silent
‘What the hell?’

This
was her fantasy, one she’d played out so many times in her head... the sound of
his belt buckle.
The
whoosh
as he pulled it from the
loops on his pants.
The way his muscles bulged as he doubled it over,
and when he pulled the loop, snapping it in his hands, her knees shook. She
could hear the faintest moan from Misty.

“Stay
in position,” he ordered, as he reared back and swung his belt hard, the snap
of the leather when it connected reverberating around the small room. Misty
flinched a bit, and then moaned out loud.

“You
will do what you’re told,” Maverick continued.
Whack!
Another searing
stroke of his belt, and still, Misty didn’t move.

Breathe!
Breathe!
Celia told
herself. Holy crap, seeing Maverick deliver a hard strapping with his very own
belt was going to make her head explode.

Swat!
He continued.

Whap!
Another.

He
lectured, and spanked, and Misty stayed right where she was. Celia could detect
a faint gleam of sweat on Maverick’s face and
neck,
he
was working his belt so hard. He was panting. Finally, he indicated for Celia
to pause.

“Misty,”
he said patiently. “A little
reaction
would help.”

She
looked over her shoulder. “When the fuck are you going to start spanking me?”
she asked, her eyes flashing, as she pushed to her feet and adjusted her
clothing.

Louanne
squealed. “Oh my God!” she muttered under her breath.

Maverick
sighed, as Misty turned around and grabbed her bag.

“This
isn’t working for me, pal,” she said, her voice impossibly lower than before,
and Celia began to wonder if Misty was, indeed, a Misty, and not a
Matthew
or
a
Mark
in drag.
“I need a smoke, and your spanking is wimpy. My
ass is starting to warm up and I can’t wait for the real deal any longer.” She
grabbed her bag, and marched to the door in her stilettos, the slap of her
shoes on the basement floor echoing, as the rest of them watched in silence.
“No hard feelings, folks, but I’m outta here.” The door slammed behind her.

Celia
turned off the camera. Louanne was staring. Rodney raised an eyebrow to
Louanne, again raising the question as to her own willingness to participate,
and she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Celia smacked his arm.

“Okay,
okay,” he muttered. She swallowed, as she heard Maverick clear his throat. This
was all her fault. She’d been the one to garner the submissives for the shoot,
and every one of them had been a dismal failure.

“What
are we going to do?” Louanne moaned. “We promised our viewers a new video
tomorrow! We have thousands of subscribers now, guys, and we can’t disappoint
them. This is a huge deal! A really freaking huge deal!”
 

“Oh,
we don’t have to worry about that,” Maverick said, in his low, deep voice.
“We’ll get our spanking session.” Celia turned to him, dread pooling in the pit
of her stomach. Somehow, she knew. She
knew.
She felt a prickle of fear
tingle along her spine. She swallowed and deliberately inhaled, as she faced
him.

“Come
here, Celia.”

If
only he knew how badly she wanted to hear that scolding tone of his. If only he
knew how she wanted real discipline meted out by him, the accountability, the
certainty of his dominance and punishment when she needed it. She longed for
it. She
craved
it. Thirsting for real punishment, only Maverick could
quench that thirst
.
Celia didn’t want to fool around and get spanked for
the kink. She wanted the real thing, and she wanted it from
him
.

He
was sitting back on the couch, the leather paddle in his hand again.

“Yes?”
she whispered. She cleared her throat. “Uh, what’s up?”

He
curled a finger and beckoned for her to come. She began walking to him, her
feet heavy as lead, but he shook his head.

“Hand
the camera to Louanne, Celia,” he ordered. “And come here.”

She
knew she should tell him no. It was foolish to obey him now, when those wicked,
glittering eyes were focused on her, the set of his jaw making her stomach
tighten and clench, the paddle clenched in his hand, causing waves of arousal
to shoot through her. But his voice, impossibly smooth and so deep she felt it
in her limbs, was weaving an enchantment around her.

He
was spinning his web, and she was caught.

She
never knew how she got there. She never remembered the walk across the room as
she stood in front of him. He was so big, so tall, even though he was sitting,
still towering over her.

He
looked in her eyes steadily. “Am I right?” he asked, so low, only she could
hear. “That we won’t have a problem staging a spanking scene tonight?”