by John Benson
Sandy wore a thin silk sheath with nothing underneath. She liked the way it felt. Opaque, but thin. Real thin. She held a leather belt. Should she? The risky badgirl need poured into her and she lifted the hem of her dress and wrapped the belt around her knees. Nope. Too much left over. But if she wrapped it once around one leg and then around both, she could cinch it tight. There. Only her lower legs had mobility now, giving her a slow short gait. It made her feel so helpless. Would he like it? What would he think? A knock at the door and she hobbled over to answer it. Her face was hot.
It was Craig and his face lit up. "Hi," he said.
She let him in and closed and locked the door. Her heart was pounding. Would he say anything, or would he just stand there looking at her with bedroom eyes?
"You look great," he said. "Too bad they won't let you dress like that at work."
"Nice enough to hug?" she asked. If it sounded shy she wasn't pretending. On the one hand she was being very bold, but doubt made her simultaneously shy. He gave her a nice hug, and then she felt his hand trace the outlines of her rump through the thin silk. He'd know she wasn't wearing panties. What would he think when he discovered her self-restraint beneath the dress?
"It's like a dream," he said.
But she had her own needs, her own agenda. "Sometimes I'm not a very nice person," she said. "Sometimes I think I should be punished."
He hugged her close. "Oh come on," he said. "You're a very nice person and you know it."
Well, yeah. Objectively she was nice enough. But subjectively she felt bad and wanted discipline. Couldn't he just take that at face value? "Sometimes I want someone to hurt me, Craig. Like now."
"We have to do some work on your self-esteem, I think," he said. He tipped her face up with his finger.
Damn it, no. Feelings weren't supposed to be analyzed. Feelings weren't supposed to be changed. They just were. "I'm asking you to spank me, Craig," she said. "Don't try and figure it out, just do it."
He clung to her and it felt real good. "I wasn't going to ask 'til later," he said. His voice was gentle. "But I could take you to bed and make you feel better. Would you like that?"
They were just getting to know each other. It was way too soon for that. "Not right now," she said. "But if you spank me good, I'll do stuff you like afterward. I'm fun when I'm grateful, even though you won't quite get laid."
He let her go and stepped back. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, my coming here," he said. "I think I better go."
"No, Please. Let's talk." Bitterness. A sense of loss.
"That's some heavy shit, Sandy. It's not the sort of stuff we should be messing with, you know? What's wrong with just plain sex?"
But sex was the last thing she wanted, after everything else was right. "But I don't love you, Craig," she said. "I'm kind of saving that for later." She felt a tear drizzle down her cheek.
"Thanks for the invite," he said. "Sorry it isn't working out. Sure I can't change your mind?"
She shook her head, too miserable to speak. Craig unlocked the door and let himself out and there she was, all slinky and hobbled and all alone, awash in the humiliation of refusal, and then she broke right down and cried.
He, like, stalked her at work and she avoided him. I mean, how much humiliation could one poor girl take? Finally he cornered her in the coffee room. There he was, filling up the doorway and no other way out. "Sorry about last night," he said.
"What," she asked, "change your mind?" What if he had? Should she give him a second chance? Or had the rebuff hurt too much?
"Not really," Craig said, "but I regret how it went, and figure I at least owe you an explanation. Here's the deal: some women change their mind after the fact and decide things weren't quite consensual. If we just made love, well, your word against mine and I stand a decent chance. But marks, bruises, evidence of force? Forget it. I'd be crucified."
"So you don't trust me," Sandy said. What had she seen in him? She raised her coffee cup to her lips, noticed the unsteadiness in her hand.
"No," he said. "That's not it. I don't know. It just seems like a risk my life could do without."
It might be simpler than he was saying. "Because it's not your thing," she said.
"Yeah," he said, "I guess." He looked sheepish, and then brightened. "But if you'd like to share some sack time some time, hey. I'm available."
Asshole. "Sorry," Sandy said. "You flunked the entrance exam."
He shrugged. "Oh, well. Best of luck, kid. I hope you find what you're looking for."
Yeah. So did she. At least he seemed sincere, and was trying not to end things on a sour note. Maybe he wasn't quite an asshole. "Hey, Craig? You don't happen to know anybody that's like into it, do you?"
"No," he said, "not really." But she read the unsaid 'Hell no, why would I want to know anyone like that?' Luckily he left before she said something she'd regret. She blew on her cooling coffee mainly out of habit and took a sip. Strong and bitter. She should add hot water. She snuffled.
In came Gina from Personnel. "Hey, Sandy. You look like somebody just ran over your new puppy. Is everything okay?"
Was it that obvious? Gina wasn't part of the company gossip-factory, so it seemed okay to tell the truth. "Craig didn't work out," Sandy said. "We're not compatible. I s'pose it's better to find it out right off the bat, but it sure don't feel that way right now."
"Bummer," Gina said. She looked concerned. Hey, Gina was a Lesbian, right? They're pretty open-minded.
"Hey, Gina. You don't share confidences, right?"
"Unless you're confessing you're a serial killer, no."
Risk. Guts. Come on, Sandy. "Do you know, um, anybody that's into discipline? I mean, like spanking?"
"Well, yeah," said Gina. "Me." There was this grin on Gina's face. Not predatory, exactly, but let's say at least delighted.
Sandy had to sigh. "I mean a guy. Sorry. I just got turned down and it felt like a kick in the gut and now I'm doing it to you."
"That's okay," Gina said. "Sure. I know some guys. Want me to set you up?"
A friend of a friend. A perfect stranger. Someone who liked to spank. A need to be safe washed over Sandy, a need to crawl back in her shell and forget this fantasy. Stay sane. Stay lonely. Settle for a normal boyfriend and a normal life. But Gina was waiting for an answer, and if she was honest, there was only one answer she could give. "Yeah," Sandy said. "I guess."
"Good afternoon, Home Savings."
"Sandy?"
A calm male voice. Did she know this guy? "Um, yeah."
"My name is Matt. Gina asked me to call."
Oh wow. Gina didn't waste any time. Here it was, the thing Sandy'd always wanted, if she just had the courage not to hang up. She was trembling. "Yeah?"
"If I haven't got my signals crossed, it seems you're interested in being punished."
Say it, Sandy. Say it, or regret it for forever. "Uh huh."
"Do you have something particular in mind?"
It would be nicer if they could just read minds. Then she would have gotten it years ago. She needed to be honest, help herself out. "I'm not experienced, but I don't want light and playful. Bruises are good. I'd love it if there were bruises." Had she said that? Did she really say that? Her breath came fast and shallow.
"Sure," he said. "I'm up for that. Any particular no-nos?"
This was all so matter-of-fact, on his part, anyway. At least he didn't sound like a serial rapist. "Yeah. No intercourse. I hope you don't mind."
"Okay. How about naughty teen, angry father? That sort of dynamic doesn't end up in the bed room."
Teen was good. Teen was very, very good. It meant the punishment could be about sex, without becoming sex. "Uh huh. It sounds perfect."
"Good. Looking forward to it. Do you live alone, Sandy?"
"Sure. My place will work, if you're asking." She was surprised she was able to talk to him calmly, while inside she was excited and scared to death.
"Excellent. Your place? Tonight, around 9:00?"
Too real. Too real. It was really going to happen. A known time, a known place, and she'd be punished. "Okay. That works. And Matt? Thank you."
"My pleasure," Matt said, and hung up. It was just as well. She had another call.
At 7:00 she tried watching TV to take her mind off things, but it didn't really work. At 8, she undressed and put her slinky silk thing on and walked around with the smooth soft feel against bare skin. At 8:30 she wondered if she should use her vibrator so when he came her prevailing mood would be shame instead of horniness, but in the end she decided not. This way, she could be punished for being horny. She could do the other later, after he'd left.
She took the belt and tied her knees, and walked around hobbled and horny and ashamed. At 9:00 she was sure he wasn't coming, and at 9:03 there was a knock at her door. She hurried over, much as she could.
She let him in. Mark was a few years older, wearing casual clothes and a ready smile. "Gina said you were cute," he said. "She wasn't kidding." He had a paper bag. A present?
"Thanks for coming," Sandy said. "I'm naughty. I need you to hurt me."
"Tell me what you've done that's naughty, Sandy."
She swallowed. "Well, for one thing, I'm not wearing any underwear, and my knees are tied together with a belt. So I can't get away from you. To make me helpless."
"That's naughty," he said. What came out of the paper bag was a wooden bath brush. A present of sorts, to be used on her. She was attracted and repelled.
"Where do you want me?" She trembled.
He peered into the living room, and the little kitchenette. "One of these stools looks good," he said. "You can bend over it and grab the rung." He moved it out from under the counter top.
She moved toward it, driven by her promise to herself. Even if this no longer seemed like such a good idea, she'd promised herself to go through with it. After all, if she didn't really like it, she'd only have to do it once. She lay across the hardwood stool, head down, butt up, hair scraping the kitchen tile. She grabbed on to the chair rung, promising herself she wouldn't move. "I'm naughty," she said. "Do it hard." Her crotch was interested in the feel of the edge of the stool. What a bad girl Sandy was.
He struck. Pain blossomed, and what came out of her was half moan, half grunt.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Uh huh."
He struck again, and this time she held it in almost, whimpering just a little. "Let's get this dress up," he said. "I like to see my handiwork, and it'll help you feel more helpless." Smooth silk slid up her thighs, and she helped him get it up to her waist. He'd see the belt now. Know how caught she was. How naughty. The edge of the stool and her badgirl crotch were liking each other too much.
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