Hot Cooking Spanker Wanted Read online

  He had me over his lap now. Words surrounded me, but none of them were of use to me. Words like, live by the sword, die by the sword. And if you play with fire you will get burned. Yes, that fit better.

  He knew that I was crying. He was talking very softly. I tried to concentrate on what he was saying but I just couldn't. I was even shaking. He had to realize that I wasn't up for something like this.

  “Shh, I'm here. I got you. Everything is alright.” He was repeating those words, trying to calm me down but I wasn't even close to calm. A thousand different thoughts were still going through my head. Some thoughts dealt with calling for help if my voice ever returned, others on just fighting him off, and another thought, where I asked myself what underwear I had on today.

  That thought went on to be thankful that I had showered and changed before I came here. I was also thankful that I always went to the bathroom before I left my apartment. A habit that served me well in life on many occasions.

  “I will begin when you tell me your safe word. By telling me one you give your consent. Do you understand?”

  I sighed relieved. A back door to safety had just opened up. I could go now and this time I would never bother him again.

  Okay, so I had control, not him. I liked that. I could maybe take a couple of whacks and then go home and write further on my book which had been sitting on the back burner for so long.

  Was it worth it? Probably not. It was time to stop this charade and go home. I had other things I needed to be doing. My agent made it clear that she wanted another book as a follow up to the one that would be filmed, a part two. Something like that would take months. She had thrown out the idea that it could come out at the same time as the movie started. No pressure there.

  “Maybe if we just talked for a bit then you could relax? You could tell me your name for example. You already know mine. That would only be fair.”

  I tried to talk, but I couldn't. I shook my head and tried to push away from him. I was swinging back and forth, like a pendulum, between yes and no.

  This just wasn't me. It took a bit of braveness to let someone do this to you. Braveness, I just didn't have. I swallowed hard and wiped away tears. “My name is Katherine, but it doesn't matter because …”

  “Because you're leaving. Yes, I know. You want to go home and feel safe from me. The only problem with that is, that you will still feel guilty about the young woman who got fired. You were tired, didn't go to bed when you should have and you took your tiredness out on a young woman, who is I guess was just starting out, and who was afraid of her boss. She has either already been fired or she will be yet today. It may have happened another day or it may not have.

  “For starters I forbid you to drink any coffee in any form for at least a week. If you could give it up for good, I would be very proud of you. You have been misusing it as a drug to keep you on your toes for way too long already. I won't tolerate it anymore. It makes you jumpy and even mean. I don't ever want to hear that you snapped at anyone ever again. Now tell me your safe word so we can continue.” He was rubbing my shoulders very gently.

  “What do you mean no more coffee? Like none?” The idea of that was scaring me even more than the idea of him spanking me. “You don't understand, I need it for work. I sometimes work odd hours. It helps me bring the performance that is expected of me.”

  “I too expect performance from you. I expect you to obey me and to be civil to others. You weren't, and now I have to step in. You are forcing my hand in this. This may seem drastic now but once you kicked the habit you will feel so much more in control of your own life. Are you good at what you do?”

  That was an odd question to be asked today. Today of all days. I should be at home dancing around in my socks, drinking a glass of champagne and singing 'I'm in the money. The sky is sunny'.

  But, no I was here at some stranger's, let's be honest that is really who he was, spread over his lap, waiting to be punished, on a day I had actually planned to do a little internet shopping and purchase a few things that I had had my eye on for a while.

  “Are you good at what you do?” he repeated.

  “Um – I guess so.” Why was it hard for me to admit the truth. I didn't want him to dig deeper. I could be looking at million dollar homes right now and he lived in a small apartment.

  “What do you mean you guess so?” I got a feeling that he was laughing at me.

  “The product that I make is selling very well at the moment.” That was vague enough.

  “What kind of product do you make?”

  I shook my head.

  “So you are good at it. Others depend on you for their livelihood?”

  I nodded. They would go on without me. Just jumping to the next writer, but at the moment I was the big fish on the line.

  “So you have a responsibility to them?”

  I nodded again.

  “Do you think that it is fair to them that their welfare is based on how much you sleep at night and how much coffee you drink?”

  I started crying again. He was right. What had I done? I had known about the meeting and pushed the clock last night. This was all my fault. I wanted to be better and to never do that again.

  “And I saw in your face that you lied about driving safely, too. Please don't tell me that you were out driving too quickly while you were tired.”

  Another wave of guilt tears poured out of me.

  “I don't want to hear that you are a very good driver. No one is a good driver when they are tired. Katherine, what is your safe word.”

  “Coffee?” I offered. It was the only word that was swarming around in my head.

  “That earned you an extra smack. Pick a word that has nothing to do with our problems.”

  “Rose?”

  “That's fine.”

  He stopped rubbing my shoulders and the first smack landed. What had I done? I was supposed to say 'no' and leave. Why had I answered him?

  The second one came and I was still shocked that he was actually hitting me. It wasn't even that painful. My body just tensed up against the pain. It was very manageable. I even felt stupid now.

  The third carried with it a little more force, but as a whole this wasn't anything to write home to mom about. The woman in my book lived in fear of her husband. And when he hit, it hurt to the point where she wanted to die to escape the pain.

  The fourth and fifth had already landed without me noticing them. I decided to just let him finish and then I would go home and be one experience wiser in life. Spankings don't hurt when you are an adult.

  I even felt a little bored.

  He gave me a hard smack that brought my attention back to him. “Are you still with me?”

  Well, not really, I was thinking about getting a new sofa. “Yes.” I tried to sound meek. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. He was a professional. I wondered if the other women, who came to him were also just humoring him.

  I felt my dress sliding up my legs.

  “No, that's okay. I've learned my lesson. I'll never do any of that stuff again.” The sooner I got home the sooner amazon could send me some new books. What should I read next, a mystery maybe?

  Ryan folded my dress over my back and started in spanking again only a lot harder. I was surprised. It was still okay and manageable, but I had to concentrate now. I had to think about my breathing, so I wouldn't forget it. I turned my face to the side to better get air in my lungs. This was starting to burn.

  He rubbed my bottom, easing a bit of the pain. I was very aware of my backside now. His fingers looped around my underwear and pulled them down to mid-thigh. I felt so very exposed and vulnerable.

  “Let's start with the driving. When you drive too fast you endanger yourself, as well as others. Do you honestly want to look a mother in the eye, and explain that you are usually a very good driver, but you somehow hit and killed her kid? Do you want that?”

  I shook my head.

  “I have a feeling that working long hours isn't new to
you but that it is the rule and not the exception. So that probably means that you are constantly tired. I have never seen you without the telltale signs of tiredness. I not only forbid you coffee but I will also be giving you a bedtime. What time do you usually go to bed?”

  “Um well, if I'm working on a project then I try to be in bed by two otherwise I go around eleven or twelve.”

  Ryan was quiet for a while. “I am going to say ten, and no later.”

  “But that is a bedtime for someone who has to go to school the next day. I can sleep in.”

  “I want you sleeping at least eight hours every evening. You go to bed at ten and you may get up at six, or sleep in until eight then I want you to get up, and eat a healthy breakfast. Is that going to be problem?”

  “No, I love breakfast. Most important meal of the day.” I was somehow very eager to please him with my bottom bared.

  “Give my an example of a healthy breakfast.” He didn't believe me.

  “I have a weakness for oatmeal.”

  “A weakness?” He sounded like we were just joking around and my bottom wasn't bare for him to see.

  “Most people don't like it, but I do.”

  “Very good. Now I want you to tell me in your own words why you need to be spanked.”

  “Because I keep bugging you with my problems.”

  A loud sigh again. “You know that you can always come to me. That isn't the reason. Try again and take this a little more seriously.” He still sounded kind.

  “Because the laws are there for a reason and because they are there for all of us, even me. Because you don't want anything bad to happen to others.”

  “Do I want something bad to happen to you?”

  “No. I don't want to get a ticket, or to get hurt either.”

  He started in spanking again. The difference was noticeable right away. It hurt now. I was even leaning away from where I guessed the next blow would land.

  “Just stop. Please stop. Just stop now,” I begged, but I had a feeling that he was just starting. He must have spanked at least fifty times already. “I'll never do it again. I'm sorry,” I sobbed but he still kept going.

  “Katherine, I need you to take me seriously when I tell you to do, or not to do something. Your behavior up until now has been unacceptable. I will no longer tolerate it. Do you understand?” Each word was accompanied by a very painful smack. My tears had already caused a wet spot on his sofa where my face was buried in it.

  I nodded. I couldn't speak at the moment.

  He stopped and rubbed my bottom. I wouldn't be sitting for at least a week. This had been such an uncomfortable and dumb idea. I needed to sit to work. That was the way I typed my books. I sobbed in pain, shame and with the knowledge that I had put myself through this for no good reason.

  “Now for the second part of your spanking we are going to talk about your behavior towards others. You may not be rude. I can't begin to tell you how sad I was reading that you had snapped at that young girl. And her losing her job because of you. Well just let me say that you are very lucky that this is your first spanking, otherwise you would have received a spanking of a lifetime.

  “I never,” smack “never,” smack. “Want to hear of you talking down to anyone. You pull yourself down when you do that. The product you make will be connected to your person and your behavior. That I can guarantee you. Now, while I'm spanking you I want you to picture that young woman calling her parents and having to admit that she was fired because someone higher up couldn't wait for her cup of coffee because she hadn't slept like she should have last night.” He spanked like a machine gun then.

  I was crying, kicking and beating on his sofa with my fists. My hand moved to protect my bottom from his attack. He grabbed it with his left hand, holding it out of the way. He just wouldn't stop spanking no matter what I promised him. I told him I would abide by all of his rules, and that I would drive as safely as I did the day I took my drivers test and that I would be very considerate of others feelings.

  He kept right on spanking as I racked my brain for what he wanted to hear. I stopped begging and fighting. He was never going to stop and I was in so much pain. I just wanted to go home. I listened to the terrible sound of him spanking me. The smacking sounded so cruel and that was me being hit.

  Ryan landed a very hard and terrible smack and then somehow he was holding me in his arms telling me how brave I had been. He said that I was a very beautiful person and that he liked me. He told me he had confidence that I would be good from now on but that he wanted me to come by next week for a control.

  He held me so tightly to his chest that it took me a long time to realize that I was clinging to him like my life depended on it. My face was buried in his chest. As I slowly started to let him go, he laid my head on his now wet chest, continuing to hold me and praise me.

  I opened my eyes because I smelt food. The good healthy home cooked kind. I looked around. I was still at his apartment. When had I fallen asleep? I looked out of the window. It was dark out.

  I searched for a clock as I sat up. I jumped to my feet then. The pain was a stinging pain. Like being slapped on a sunburn but much worse. I wanted to go home now. I needed to have a good cry in private where I could feel sorry for myself.

  Ryan came in and smiled at me like he always did. I took an involuntary step back away from him. I now had no problem imagining him hitting me. He was more than capable of that. I felt tears running down my face.

  “It's over. You don't have to be afraid of me. I cooked us something to eat. I hope you're hungry. I think I made too much.” He was motioning me to come into the kitchen with him.

  I couldn't even imagine sitting down with him at the table. I couldn't even imagine sitting down at all.

  I shook my head. I looked for my shoes and purse. He had had enough time to go through my purse. It didn't look any different, but still this could be on internet already. He had even had enough time to take pictures of my spanked bottom and post them on the web.

  I slipped out the door without a word to him. I was digging through my purse looking for my keys when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was him. He turned me towards him and hugged me.

  “I'm sorry you can't stay. Drive carefully and take good care of yourself this week. I'll see you next week at the same time.”

  My eyes must have been huge in fear because he actually looked a little guilty.

  “Um – I don't think so. I have to go now.” I started looking for my keys again. He watched me as I looked and dug around, wadding the way through the junk in my purse. He looked ready to grab my purse and start searching himself.

  “Did you lay your keys down somewhere else? Should I go look?” he offered.

  I had to wonder if he took them. I stifled a yawn as best I could but then I had my keys. I turned to my car to unlock it but he laid his hand over the lock. I then pushed the button unlocking the car.

  He laughed a little. “Please, join me for a bite to eat. I have a bad feeling about sending you off as tired as you are. I promise I don't think any worse of you.”

  What he didn't understand was, that I thought worse of him.

  “Please, come back inside with me. I think we need to talk a little. You look so sad and you should be leaving feeling like you have a clean slate. I want you to feel good about yourself. Come on. I laid a really soft pillow on your chair.” He gave me a devilish smile.

  I didn't want to but I smiled at him. Then I was crying again. He took my key and pushed the lock button and then gave it back to me. He took me by my hand and led me back inside. He let go of me in the kitchen.

  Ryan turned away from me and stirred whatever he was cooking. I eyed the chair. He really had put a pillow on it. I looked over my shoulder at him. He was still stirring and doing this and that. I pulled all my courage together and sat.

  I made a noise like I had been sucker-punched as I sat down. He must have heard it but he chose to ignore it. I guess he thought he was being sensiti
ve.

  “Are you allergic to anything?” I jumped a little as he spoke so casually with me.

  “Umm, no nothing that I know of.” He made up plates and served like was were in a five star restaurant. He had given me that impression the first time we met too. I wondered what he did for a living.

  The food was piping hot and it looked good. I usually ordered my food by telephone. Cooking was always a last ditch effort to avoid getting sick when I felt a cold coming on. It rarely worked. I had even toyed with the idea of hiring someone to cook warm meals for me every day. I needed more vitamins than I was getting.

  Ryan had made, or heated up, a stew and served it over peeled cooked potatoes. I felt like I was starving as I looked at this food in front of me. Somehow I felt like crying again. How would he react to that? I pictured him setting me on his lap again.

  I timidly picked up my fork and took a tiny bite. He was waiting for a comment. “It's very good. Did you make it yourself?”

  “Yes, I did. I'm a cook on the side.”

  “On the side of what?” I asked.

  He smiled and shook his head like I had before. Copycat.

  “You are a real trained cook?”

  “Yes. Why does that surprise you?” He was smiling and I was pleased to see that he was eating, too.

  “I guess because I'm not a good cook. That isn't true. I'm not consistent cook.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I can't be bothered to cook something every day. I see it as my job to keep diverse delivery services in business.” I smiled at my own joke.

  He shook his head and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “You seriously need me in your life. What do you usually eat?”

  “Umm – am I in trouble again?” The thought of another spanking was making me lose my appetite.

  “No, of course not. I just have a feeling that all you usually do is work and drink coffee. I want you to feel you are worth better care. Now tell me what do you usually eat?”

  “Chinese, Italian all the places that deliver. I don't like taking a break from work just to eat.”