Hot Cooking Spanker Wanted (2 page)

He
smiled and looked away for a second before his eyes returned to me.
“You mean after I had gained your trust?”

I
nodded quickly. I really wanted to hear his answer.

“
I
would have sat down on the sofa and called you to me. I would have
started in lecturing you on what you were being punished for. Then, I
would have asked you to lay over my lap. I would have started in
spanking with my hand. Then I'd lecture some more. I seriously do
want to help you change your ways, and become a better person. Then I
would have lifted up your skirt or dress and continued to spank.
After a bit I would have pulled down your underwear.”

My
eyes widened and then I thought 'here's what's in this for him'.

He
responded to my eyes. “There are a few reasons for that. The first
is so I can see how you are taking it. Some women bruise easier than
others. It isn't my intention to actually harm you. The second reason
is because it hurts more, a lot more. It's more effective.”

“
I
can't imagine that that would make that much of a difference.” I
had leaned in to him, and my voice sounded like I was accusing him of
something.

“
You'll
just have to take my word for it.” He gave me a cocky smile.

“
Is
there another reason?”

“
Yes,
there actually is, but I can't tell you about that.”

“
I
see.” I was pretty sure that I knew what reason that was. The
Germans have a saying for that: The eye eats along. It gave him
something to see, more than just a woman's bottom.

“
I
think you are getting the wrong impression. Let me just put it this
way. Some women are just here to use me for other needs that aren't
disciplinary. We would never have that kind of relationship.”

“
Then
what do you get out of it?”

“
I
kind of like to spank.” He made a look like he was remembering a
previous spanking with some poor woman. “And I'd rather that women
come to me then go to someone else who could hurt them. That was why
I replied to your add. You seemed so vulnerable. I didn't want anyone
to hurt you.” He looked sincere. I believed him. He thought of
himself as a knight in shining armor.

“
Tell
me more about the – procedure.” Coherent sentences just weren't
coming out of me.

Ryan
smiled at the change of topic. Most guys didn't notice things like
that. He wasn't a man who could be put off course without knowing it.

“
That
would depend on you, a lot. I would watch how you were reacting to
things. If I judged my hand to be enough I would stick with it. If
not I would use something that would better get your attention and
help bring you to the point where you were truly remorseful. I have a
feel for that. Don't worry about it. Again I can see what I am doing
so I would be able to judge what is too much. I would listen to what
you would be telling me too.”

“
I
would have been expected to talk?” I had the woman in my book
gulping for air and unable to speak at all.

“
As
a rule of thumb, if you can't talk then it was too much. Your talking
to me, helps me know where you are in the spanking, and whether or
not you are okay.”

“
What
would I have had to do to get you to stop?”

“
That's
easy, either by you having learned your lesson, or if you say your
safe word.”

I
had read about those in internet, but I wanted him to explain what it
meant to him. I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“
What
a safe word means to me.” He gave me a big smile as he said that,
like he was reading an essay in front of a whole class. “First, I
would let you pick one. It has to be something that doesn't fit in to
what we are talking about. You couldn't pick out something like
'chocolate bar' if the reason for the spanking was to lose weight.”
His shoulders were shaking a little but he was trying not to laugh.

I
thought about that. A spanking to lose weight. I did have a couple of
pounds to lose. In fact, I had already lost a couple before coming
here. I didn't want to be embarrassed by my weight as I laid over his
lap. I was sure that a woman getting beaten didn't worry about
earthly things like that. Her life would be more important.

“
What
would you have wanted me to spank you for?” Finally he was using
the subjunctive or 'what if' form. I had noticed from his language
that he had thought that he could change my mind. I was glad that he
had given up on that. These were the little things I had been paid to
listen for as a translator. People are usually straight forward and
tell you what they mean if you know how to listen for it.

I
smiled at him, rewarding him for giving up, and because I had had to
rack my brain to think up something worthy of being spanked for. It
wasn't just my childhood that had been boring. I had come up with
two, over achiever that I was. “I tend to drive too fast. I've got
a bit of a lead foot, you could say. I have never gotten a ticket but
it could only be a matter of time. I'm surprised my luck had held
this long. I am a very good driver and I'm not being unsafe. I have
great brakes, and I make sure they stay that way.”

He
looked a little mad at me.

I
was unsure as I continued. “And the other thing is I am a little on
the sarcastic side. I'm a bit of a big mouth.”

That
had him smiling again. “What effect does that have on others?”

“
It
isn't quite a problem yet but it is something I don't like about
myself. I'm typically one of those people who can dish it out but
can't take it themselves. I never say anything when someone hurts my
feelings. I just go home, and think about it. There is usually a lot
truth in sarcasm. I try to better myself but I don't want anyone else
to go home, and feel bad about themselves because of something I
said, usually in haste.” I nodded at the truth in my words. That
was something I actually did want to change about myself.

I
was opening up to him. Why was he having that effect on me? I felt
bad about myself just then. I could feel my forehead wrinkling
together as I thought about past times when I had hurt others with my
words. “I don't want to be like that and no one deserves to be
talked to like that.”

I
was pouring out my soul to him. He should work as a psychiatrist. He
would just need one of those sofas, but he would use it in a
different way.

“
I
understand now. Those are the two things you want to change about
yourself?”

“
I
guess so, but it doesn't matter anymore. It was just an idea, and not
my best. I really am sorry for wasting your time.” I finished my
coffee thinking that I had learned a lot.

“
Do
you really want to go? Aren't you a little curious?”

“
Curiosity
killed the cat.” I shrugged my shoulders as I stood up.

Ryan
also stood and jumped to get my coat. He gave me another dazzling
smile as he helped me put it on. “You have my e-mail address. Drop
me a line and let me know how you are doing.” He placed both of his
hands on my shoulders and looked deep into my eyes. “I want you to
take good care of yourself. Please drive more carefully and more
slowly. If the police do stop you, please don't lie to them. I can
already picture you babbling on and answering questions that they
didn't even ask.”

I
blushed red. That kind of did sound like something I would do. I also
felt smaller than I actually was. He was scolding me like I was a
little girl and he was the worried parent. The thing was, I believed
him that he would worry.

He
continued, “I know you have heard this a thousand times before, but
it bares repeating. Do on to others as you would have them do onto
you. You pull yourself down when you put others down. People will
only remember that you were mean. They won't think that you were
funny.

I
nodded thoroughly ashamed of myself.

He
kissed my forehead. “Take care of yourself.”

I
nodded as I left. I drove home careful not to go over the limit. I
felt chastised. I hadn't even been at his place for a half an hour,
and already he was making an impression. It was still light out on
this late Californian August evening.

I
noticed that I was nicer the next couple of weeks. I was a pleasure
to be around.

I
had been able to write a couple of chapters in my book. There was
still something missing, but it was better than the crap I had
written beforehand. I couldn't call my friend and ask her because she
would just defend him and feel offended. I wasn't allowed to hurt
anyone's feelings. I laughed at myself for thinking that he could
forbid me anything. I thought about him a lot.

Ryan
sure did know how to make an impression.

I
wrote him an e-mail. I had nodded that I would tell him how I was
doing. I had even admitted that I had been very good. He had written
right back and said that he was proud of me. That had made me feel
good about myself. His opinion seemed to mean a lot to me.

I
wrote back and asked him the difference between a spanking and
domestic abuse. I should probably just come clean with him. I had a
feeling that he would be glad to help me.

He
wrote back that that was a very good question but one that he would
prefer to explain to me when we were alone. He wanted to be able to
look into my eyes to make sure I understood everything. He wanted to
be sure that their were no misunderstandings.

I
agreed to come around when he had time. His schedule was a lot fuller
than mine. He often didn't have time. I wanted to ask him how many
women he spanked, but he had been clear that he wouldn't answer
questions like that.

I
drove to his apartment and slipped into a parking spot. I had been
eager to see him again. My life had been better since he was in it. I
had driven a little too fast on the way here. Of course, I hadn't
gotten caught, but we had talked about that. I didn't want to confess
that I had been bad after being good for so long. I rang his doorbell
and he opened up right away.

I
smiled at him. He smiled back like he had honestly missed me. I
wondered what his neighbors thought with so many women coming and
going.

He
took my coat again and I wondered in the direction of the kitchen. My
coffee was already waiting for me. It was steaming hot. Just the way
my fingers liked it. I was working on several books at the moment. I
typed all day every day, no Sundays off for me.

I
sat down at my spot and waited for him to come in and sit down. He
did but he kept his eyes on my hands.

“
It's
warm out why are you doing that?” I knew he meant my fingers.

“
I
always do that. It's a habit. Does it bother you?” If he had a
thousand and one pet peeves then I would be out of here fast.

“
No,
I just wondered. It's so hot out I thought about offering you
something cool to drink.” He was smiling and wondering about me. As
always he so worried. “You wanted to talk to me again?”

“
Yes,
just a couple of quick questions. I was just wondering about a few
things. I want to make it clear that I haven't changed my mind. I
just wanted more information. I wasn't trying to accuse you of
anything, I was just wondering what the difference between – I mean
where is the line drawn between – abuse and discipline?” There I
had said it and somewhat coherently too.

I
had been able to spit it out while his eyes laughed at me. He was
used to my funny way of talking. I could have probably knocked him
over with a feather if I told him how I earned my money.

“
Like
I said before, that is an excellent question. I think the best way to
explain it is uncontrolled anger. If you were to do something that is
beneath you like being mean to someone you care about and hurting
their feelings or endangering yourself or someone else then I would
be very angry with you and I would do what was possible to ensure
that you wouldn't do anything along those lines again but I wouldn't
beat on you, hitting you somewhere where you could get seriously
hurt. No, I would take you over my knees and pull you close so you
wouldn't feel left alone or unwanted. Then I would spank your bottom
and just your bottom until I was sure you had learned your lesson. If
you would repeat the same mistake. I would make my position even
clearer so you would understand how serious I was.

“
Abuse
would be defined as me not being in control. That is something that
is completely unacceptable and has nothing to do with discipline.”
His face was so serious as he spoke.

I
nodded and didn't meet his eye. Did he know that I had sped here this
evening?

“
Do
you have something that you want to tell me?” His serious face got
even worse.

I
felt the heat rising to my face. He was staring me down. I was
squirming on my chair. How was he doing that, I wondered? I shook my
head.

He
sighed, obviously disappointed in me. “How am I supposed to help
you if you lie to me?” His voice was still nice and patient, but I
had an enormous feeling of guilt.