Dispelling myths

I need to ask my mother’s forgiveness. Mom would be ninety-five now if she were still with me, and she definitely had her own ideas of how things worked, based on what she was taught growing up. She was firm in how she believed you got the common cold. You got a cold from running in and out of the house to play in the snow. You could catch cold from going outside in clod weather in your

bare feet and you would catch your death of cold if you went out in the cold with wet hair. I often remember her telling me, “I’m cold, put on your sweater.” I never understood how my putting on a sweater was going to keep her warm. In her book, being cold equaled catching a cold.

I being a modern, scientific daughter I tried my best to explain to her that viruses and viruses alone caused colds. She acknowledged that this was a possibility, but never gave up her original beliefs.

Now I finally realized that we were both wrong – it’s neither going out in the cold with wet hair nor viruses that cause me to catch a cold. What causes me to catch a cold is to make a firm commitment to a healthier lifestyle. Once I make the definite decision to exercise faithfully four to five days a week, once I commit to changing my diet and eating healthier and avoid soft drinks as much as possible, once these decisions are firm – a cold will grab me, slam me to the ground and begin kicking and stomping.

It certainly happened this time. Last Sunday it hit. Breathing is the only exercise I’ve managed and trust me the effort alone has been a full time job. Coming home from school I have just enough strength to make it to my chair and with my last reserve I manage to get my computer to my lap – riding the bike, walking, or playing on the wii has not been possible.

Food? I’m sick – I want comfort food. I do not view carrot sticks and salad as comfort food, I never will. I’ve really done okay on the food front. I haven’t been very hungry and I haven’t overeaten or gone over to junk food with one exception. My soft drinks, specifically Sundrop – I crave it like a crack addict craves that next hit. When I cough it hits suddenly and severely. It seems as thought I’m coughing up a lung and Sundrop is nearly the only thing that controls it. Water makes me cough more, but that burning hit of carbonated citrus – oh my, it cuts the cough off! My weight is up a little from last week. I’m not surprised considering I have at least five pounds of congestion in my head and chest.

I promised Nick and I’m promising all of you out here – the cold has only caused a postponement to my push toward healthier living. I know the cold will let go soon and I’m ready to jump on the healthy bandwagon.

Nick has been very sweet and understanding. He is getting over a cold and may have possibly contributed to my current state. But his sweetness and understanding goes only so far and in an email the other night he told me in no uncertain terms that the cold did not get me out of our ‘Friday covenant’ as he called it. Bless his heart, he’s right. The end he plans to work on is not affected by my cold and I am happy he realized that. I didn’t expect it to cure the cold, but knew I’d feel better.  I’ll tell you about that spanking tomorrow.

Fantasy Friday - Help Wanted, ch 2

Happy Friday I have two things I would like for you to read today! I didn't realize the release date was so soon, but Donna Steele's newest book, The Melting: Book Two, The Progression is out today. I've read it and it continues the series wonderfully well. I hope you'll give it a try.

The second good read, of course, is today's Fantasy Friday. This is another continued story from Annie. I think that there are five chapters in all. I hope you enjoy…

                                              

                       

  

Help Want

 Chapter 2

Amy stretched slowly then ran to the mirror to inspect her backside. It was amazing that he could inflict that much pain and never leave a mark. A week into this odd arrangement she was convinced he was looking for reasons to punish her. When she accused him of setting her up for failure he simply laughed, then assured her that her contract did not require a reason, he could punish her for his own enjoyment if he wanted. Astonished that he would admit he spanked her for pleasure she called him several nasty names and found herself upended for an extra, mid-day session. Even more surprising was her own reaction. Not only did it hurt far more than she had expected, but she found herself wishing he would make a pass at her. Each time he pulled her across his lap she found herself wiggling, hoping to feel some sign of arousal on his part. Horny and irritable, she gave up on sleep and decided to make an early visit to the gym.

Slipping quietly into the gym to avoid disturbing the staff Amy was shocked to find RJ hard at work on the slant board. Clutching a large weight disc to his chest, eyes closed and wearing only a skimpy pair of shorts and headphones, he did not see or hear her entrance. Watching from the shadowed doorway she was surprised at what good shape he was in. A wide leather strap anchored his waist to the bench and his muscles rippled with each pull. Seeing him like this made her wonder how his ex-wife could say he was less than a whole man. Seeing him like this made her wonder why he didn’t respond to her teasing.

Just then RJ’s eyes opened, the unexpected sight of Amy in workout gear caused a telltale bulge of reaction under the thin shorts. Annoyed at his loss of control, he took it out on her.

“This is my private time, go back to your room and stay there until your scheduled time.”

“I don’t think so, we have some things to discuss and now is as good a time as any.”

Gathering her courage, Amy went to him, kneeled at his side, and softly touched her lips to his.

“I couldn’t sleep for thinking about you. Wondering why you aren’t attracted to me, why you would rather spank me than make love.”

“This is a business arrangement. Would you be happier were I to treat you as a whore?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drake, I won’t bother you again. If I find you attractive it is my problem, not yours.”

“How many dollars does it take to make up for two good legs? Did you think a sympathy fuck was worth something to me? Maybe a bonus in it for you?”

His harsh tone and deliberate cruelty hurt worse than any spanking he had given. Tucking her chin to hide the sudden tears that threatened to spill she started to rise but found her wrists caught in a vise like grip.

“As long as you’re here I might as well get what I paid for.”

A touch of a button repositioned the bench so he was seated. Pulling her over his lap he started fast and hard bringing a sting to her bottom through the spandex that soon had her wiggling. Pausing just long enough to roll her shorts to her knees, she couldn’t catch her breath before he started again on her now bare flesh. None of his usual pauses, no comments about how red she was getting, just hard, non-stop punishment. Soon she was sobbing, limp with total surrender. He realized he had punished her for making him want to break his own rules, and he had done so more harshly than she deserved. Her bottom was a deep red, mottled with purple, swollen and tender looking, and his hand hurt. Wishing he could take it back he gently rubbed her tortured flesh and tried to find the words to apologize.

“It’s okay, I am sorry I lost my temper. Just catch your breath and everything will be all right.”

The change in his voice was more than she could stand; completely drained from the emotional roller coaster she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed on his shoulder. Babbling her promises to be good, to try harder, to be good enough that he would like here a little, to never try to kiss him again.

He stroked her back and soothed her until the worst was over, but the heat of her burning bottom pressing against his thin shorts tortured him as surely as his hand had her. When she turned her tear stained face up to him he did what he had been thinking of since the first time he had seen her soft full mouth. The salt of her tears mingled with the sweetness of her mouth; instead of fear or disgust she returned his passion. RJ was lost.

Long moments later, twined together, he came up for air, caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirrored wall and burst out laughing.

"We look like a couple of horny teenagers caught in the back seat of Daddy's sedan."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you do something you don't want to do." Amy started to rise, but he pulled back against him for another deep kiss.

"The problem was how much I wanted to, still do. I don't want you to feel like this is part of the package; you don't owe me anything but what is in our contract."

"This isn't about your damn contract! I find you interesting and attractive and I wish to get to know you better, this is NOT sympathy." Taking his hand she boldly slid it between her legs, the silk of her arousal was unmistakable.

"I surrender. But we're not kids, we have all of the time in the world, and this belt is cutting me in two. I'll grab a quick shower and meet you for breakfast in 30 minutes."

Smiling happily Amy tugged her tight shorts over her swollen bottom and headed for her room. She wanted to get ready for what promised to be a very interesting day.

To be continued…

I'll be back next week with Chapter 3 and I'm happy to report that an old friend has sent me a few more stories to share after this. Looks like FF will be around a while longer. You can sent your story to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

TBT - Ode to a Repair Man

Throw back Thursday again today. Have any of you ever helped your HOH try to install an appliance or repair pipes or such? I have to do this occasionally and it is not one of my favorite activities. I wrote the nearly eight years ago and its as true today as it was then. Maybe you can relate.

‘Ode to a Repair Man’


or

How to help your HOH replace a dishwasher
while the pipes under the sink fall apart as he touches them.

Have you ever tried to help install or replace a dishwasher, or some other appliance? I have some tips:

Rule one – Shut up. He does not want your help verbally; he does not want your opinion, your suggestions or anything else from you that requires speech.

Stay close. This is not the time to sit at the computer and laugh your ass off at someone’s post, relax in front of the tube or chat on the phone to a friend. This is especially true if the phone conversation includes how long it is taking to get the appliance installed. (see rule one)

Other helpful hints would include learning the names of basic tools. If he asks for a wrench, he does not want the needle nose pliers. Do not ask “Well, can’t you just use that?” (see rule one)

Realize that 99% of his questions are rhetorical and do not require an answer. Questions like, “Where did I put the damn screw?” “Why is this piece of shit falling apart?” and “Who needs a fucking dishwasher in the first place?” should not be answered. (see rule one)

Try to keep the flash light shinning in the direction he is looking. If you stare longing back toward the computer the light will veer away from the correct spot. If he grabs it out of you hand, don’t say “Your head got in the way.”(see rule one)

Lastly but not least - all finger gestures must be done out of sight of the HOH and comments like ‘Bite me’ and ‘Kiss my ass’, while perfectly acceptable, must be said in you head, not muttered aloud. (see rule one)

Two of my favorites

I’ve got PK Corey’s Reading Room as the place I normally talking about the books I like. I have many friends that write, but so far there are only two writers that I blog about over here, not counting me. First there is Sunny (Leigh Smith) a wonderful writer of spanking fiction, and one of my favorite writers. You can find her books by going here and check out her side bar  – I suggest you do that right now!

Another of my favorites is Donna Steele. Probably the only non-spanko writer I talk about much. Even though there is no spanking her books are wonderful. Right now she is in the middle of The Melting series. It has a bit of science fiction (I’m not a si-fi fan, but this series works!) The second book of the three book series is coming out soon, so Donna is has put up excerpts on her blog for the last few days. Not only that, but book number one is now on sell for .99! I hope you’ll give it a try.  Click here for her blog and here to check out book # 1. Trust me The Melting is a great series! Feel free to leave her a comment and tell her PK sent you. I owe Donna a lot, she does my first edits on the Cassie books.

I haven't forgotten

You have to know I’m happy about what went on last Friday. Having spanking in my life and the real hope of it continuing makes me very happy. But I know some of you are thinking that I view this as the answer to my problems. I just wanted to assure you that I realize the real struggle is still with my health and my ability to get a grip on my weight.

The spanking gives me excitement back in my life and that can really spark an interest in doing what I should. I’m starting on an exercise program – goal at the moment at least four times a week. I try to hit it as soon as I get home, before I set down. My eating has changed for the better – I’m not saying I’ve landed on a foolproof plan, just that I’m becoming more aware and I’m working on it.

I managed to loose two pounds last week. A wonderful feeling, but I’m not letting it go to my head. Small changes can make a big difference at first. I call it loose weight, you can shift a few pounds at first – it’s getting rid of the fat that is truly attached, the fat that loves you and never wants to leave that is really tough. Ultimate it’s up to who gives up first, the fat or my determination to get rid of it. And I guess just like wondering if  Nick will keep up the spanking, only time will tell.

A hard spanking and how I feel about it

Where to begin? I told you I’d emailed Nick my desires and I’d ask for him to commit to spanking me once a week until at least Halloween. I just wanted to see if it would help as much as I thought it would. One of his intriguing comments was, “Lets commit until Spanksgiving. LOL, suits me!

This was the email I got from him last Thursday:

I think you have done a great job of simplifying things so that even I can grasp the basics, even if I don't understand everything.

You want, or at least think you want, me to spank hard at least sometimes.  And you want to be able to let go, to yell to plead or whatever.

I think I can make efforts on the first, and I think it might be hot to see some animated reaction, like the errant young ladies on the spanking videos.  I do wonder if you will be able to drop your reserves enough to get to that point.  Or will you find that this doesn't feel nearly as good on the backside as it did in your head and have to bail with a safe word? I guess we will be getting some answers as we go.

Shall we all say it together – ‘Be careful what you ask for.’

So Friday, after Mollie had been by to say hello and headed back to school, after we’d gone out to eat, Nick told me to pick out a couple of implements and meet him in the guest room (I wanted to use a different room from our bedroom). He said since I’d had a good week working on healthy objectives was the reason I got to pick.

I picked the dogging bat and Blondie’s paddle. Blondie’s paddle was a dangerous choice, but I love it.

He asked me if I needed any restraints on my hands so I wouldn’t reach back and my only thought was ‘gulp’. I told him no, hoping it was going to be true. I’d explained to him in my email that I wanted to start off with my clothes on, because I did want a hard spanking and I was afraid I couldn’t take it directly on the bare. So I was a little surprised and disappointed when his first statement was, ‘Pull down your pants.’

But I did as he asked and after I did he told me I could pull them back up. Bewildered I looked at him. “I just wanted to see if you’d added any extra padding.” I had to laugh because I’d thought of doing that exact thing! I had wondered if five or six pair of panties would help. I didn’t try it, but it could have come in handy.

With me dressed again he started spanking. He began firm and it did get harder – and harder. Again, I’m usually quiet when I’m being spanked. I think Nick and I both realize that the ability to ‘let go’ – yell, cuss, plead – under his hand would be a really good thing for both of us. Ultimately crying would be my goal, but I can’t see it happening.

I did manage to be a bit more vocal. A few ‘shit’, ‘damn it’ and ‘that hurts’ not exactly letting go, but an improvement for me. Then he did something else I’d asked of him. He had me take my pants down then and he left me alone for a little while. I sometimes want to give my head a few minutes to catch up an appreciate/accept what’s happening. While corner time is fine in my head, I don’t think I’d like in much in real life. But lying there across the bed, knowing he was soon coming back for the second half of the spanking was doing amazing things in my brain.

When he came back in with a touch of hot cream and a plug everything jumped up a notch. I was again spanked thoroughly and I found myself hugging the pillow for dear life. It was quite an afternoon, and he did it for me – just for me. I mean ultimately having a happier, healthier wife benefits him too - but not at that moment and I felt very loved and cherished. When he was done he gave me a wonderful hug and told me to leave the plug where it was for thirty minutes.  Delicious submissive feelings were snapping through my brain and I loved it.

I want to say two things that I know for sure –

First, I hated that/those spankings. They hurt and I didn’t like it one bit. It does feel much better in my head than on my behind and I wanted him to stop. The pain was serious and I didn’t want any more.

And second, when he was done, I felt the best I have in months. I felt relaxed, happy, loved and cared for. Sitting afterwards – plug still in – on my sore bottom was an experience. I’m not used to being sore after a spanking, but I was after this one. I even have a few small bruises, enough to make me happy without scaring Nick off. My mind continued to zoom happily around for the rest of the evening.

I'm curious to see what will happen when I come home one Friday in foul mood. One of my leave me alone and don't come near me moods. One of my 'Fine - whatever' moods with the attitude of 'I don't care if you spank or not, you're not getting a reaction from me' mood.  I hope Nick will be willing to see that for what it is - a way of distancing myself from him rather than leaning on him. I could see on those day needing more time in my head - time before any spanking and well as time during the spanking - to think and acknowledge what I'm doing and hopefully correct it. I hope we'll both be able to break through those moods - him with a firm hand and me will a willingness to be brought back from wherever I'm trying to escape to.

After the spanking Friday we talk a little. He say I still need to work on letting go, but that I will have plenty of opportunity to practice. As he put it, “You let the genie out of the bottle.”

Fantasy Friday - Help wanted

Happy Friday all. I hear tomorrow the weather is going to turn fall like and I can't wait. I'm not particularly wild about the depths of winter, but fall - now that's different. I love it changing to cool and crisp.

No new stories are coming in so I'm hitting the archives again and I'm going again to Annie-nonymous. Not only does she write a good story, there are usually several parts which helps me know what I'm doing from week to week. I hope you'll enjoy Annie's story ...

Help Wanted

Seeking personal companion
for extended trip.
Intimate contact required.
Excellent pay, benefits for
well disciplined young woman.
100K for right candidate.
reply/picture to Box 56

Amy Nelson stared at the ad in the morning paper. It was a sign. She had prayed for guidance and this was it. A hundred thousand dollars! It was the answer all right. That was enough to pay off all of her debts, move to a safer apartment, even start taking some classes again.  If she was real careful, maybe she could get a new job. Modeling lingerie was okay, but some of the men were kind of pushy, and her boss was getting insistent that they should “date”.

Quick, before she could change her mind, Amy jotted down what this opportunity could mean to her, and sent it off with a picture and her resume. For days she haunted the mailbox, hoping for a reply. After two weeks she resigned herself to getting out of trouble the hard way.

Dragging home after a “luncheon” show, which was comprised of drunken businessmen trying to cop a feel, Amy found a notice in her mailbox to pick up a package. She wasn’t expecting anything, probably another bill collector getting inventive in trying to find her ex. She tossed it in the trash.

Two days later the phone rang. Amy let it ring over to the machine as usual. The deep masculine voice caught her by surprise.

“Miss Nelson, this is RJ Drake. You missed your appointment today. I do not tolerate unreliable behavior, Miss Nelson. If you are still interested in the position, I suggest you contact me at once at 809-9000 with an explanation.”

“Oh my god, surely it’s not that ad.” Amy was frantic trying to remember where she was supposed to be and how she had forgotten. Hands shaking she dialed the number.

“Drake here.” His voice was curt, and all business.

“Mr. Drake, this is Amy Nelson, I am returning your call. I apologize for missing my appointment, I was not aware that I had made one. Perhaps we could reschedule?”

“Miss Nelson, as I explained in the package that was delivered to your home last week,”

“OH no,” Amy screeched, “I threw it out, I thought it was some dumb bill collector, I am so sorry. Maybe you could send it again?”

“Miss Nelson, my time is short, please do not interrupt me when I am speaking. If you wish to be considered for the position you must come for an interview today. I will send a car for you at your home address in 45 minutes, be ready.”

He hung up. Just like that he assumed she would be available, and she only had 45 minutes to shower, dress and do her hair. Muttering about how it would serve the arrogant SOB right if she didn’t go she flew through her closet searching for something that looked “companion-y”.

With only moments to spare she gave herself a last critical look in the mirror and sailed downstairs. A limo pulled up just as she reached the street. Very nice, at least Mr. Drake was a rich grump.

The driver escorted Amy to a quiet office building, directing her to take a seat until she was called. Too much time to think led to doubts, not sure why she had come, Amy stood to leave just as an older woman entered the room. With a curt, “follow me” she turned and walked briskly down the corridor, leaving Amy to trail along.
At a large double door, beautifully carved, the woman stopped.

“Mr. Drake is expecting you.” and she returned the way they had come.

Amy tried to be calm, took a deep breath and knocked lightly.

“Come.” She recognized the same deep voice from the phone call.

Entering the office, Amy was struck by how lovely it was. Not flashy, but quiet and comfortable. Then her attention was drawn to the man seated at a large desk to one side.
He had dark hair and eyes, seemed to be tall, and was wearing a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, his arms muscular and tanned. He was much younger than she had imagined, maybe 40, but looked as if he didn’t smile much.

Amy started across the room, hand extended, but was cut short by his barked order.

“Just have a seat so we can get started.”

Amy sat, flustered at his rudeness. He stared at her, looking her up and down.

“Stand up, and turn slowly. Face the door and bend over placing your hands on the floor.”

“But, what does”

“I asked you not to interrupt me when I am speaking.”

“That’s it, Mr. Drake, I don’t know who you are or what you are used to but I expect to be treated like a person. I could sure use the money but I reckon I can do without your attitude.” Amy drew herself up and turned intent on stalking out of the room with as much dignity as possible. To her surprise the man burst out laughing.

“Sit down, Miss Nelson. If we can agree to terms, the job is yours.”

RJ watched the conflict play out on the young woman’s face. She wasn’t lying about needing the money; his investigation showed her husband left her high and dry with a pile of debt. She looked younger than the 30 she claimed on her resume, wearing little make up and a simple suit she was perfect for him. Now to convince her to accept his terms.

“Miss Nelson, let me explain just what the position requires. I will be on an extended trip, in fact, we will be spending approximately three months on my yacht, visiting ports in a number of areas around the world. Do you get seasick?”

Amy shook her head, not trusting her voice.

“Good. I plan to leave day after tomorrow. Is there anything that would prevent you from departing at that time?”

Another shake of her head.

“Very well, I will tell you what your duties will be, if you agree we will draw up the contracts. I require a short period of secretarial work, less than an hour daily, to help with correspondence. I expect you to dine with me each evening; you will accompany me to any events that I might attend. Your wardrobe will be provided. I am an exacting taskmaster. I expect everything to be done my way. If you disappoint me in any way, you will be punished in whatever manner I feel appropriate. I favor old-fashioned, bare bottomed spankings for most transgressions.”

He paused there to gauge her reaction. Her cheeks burned a deep crimson and her mouth hung open, but she did not run screaming from his presence. So far, so good. If he had only thought of this sooner.

“Now, you will be paid $100,000 upon completion of the trip. You will receive a bearer bond in that amount that will mature in 90 days. Your travel expenses and a weekly stipend of $500 will be paid in addition to that. If you wish to accept the position you will need to go to this address immediately for wardrobe fittings. Do you have any questions?”

He couldn’t help smiling at the dazed expression on her face as she took the card he offered. She seemed rather confused by the whole speech.

“Miss Nelson, I will need your answer today.”

“Just hold your horses, Mr. Drake, I don’t work for you yet so don’t start bossing me. If I take this job we’re going to go on a cruise, write letters, go out to dinner and wear fancy clothes. I get a hundred grand for going and five hundred a week. You get to whup my ass anytime you want to but I don’t have to sleep with you and I can’t get off the boat once we start. Is that about right?”

“Not exactly how I would have phrased things but essentially accurate. Do you accept?”

“Throw in the wardrobe and you’ve got a deal.”

Pushing back from the desk JR Drake turned his chair and wheeled out to give the woman one last chance to change her mind. She took one look at his wheelchair, grabbed the card out of his hand and waltzed out of his office, leaving him to wonder just what he had started.

Several months ago he had picked up a small free newspaper while waiting for an appointment. He was shocked to find personals of every type, including some he was quite interested in. Apparently spanking was no longer a dirty secret. Just reading those ads left him with a renewed sense of his own isolation. After the accident that took his legs his wife left him for a polo player, said she missed having a “whole man”. Although spanking had been an integral part of their marriage she was unable to view him as the dominant partner after the accident. He couldn’t bear the thought of going through the same betrayal again, or worse, put up with a sympathy fuck from some woman who wanted his money. It never occurred to him that he could hire the job done, just like he did everything else. It took several months to get the ad written, bring himself to place it and then screen the applicants. There were some very odd people out there.

But it was worth it. Miss Nelson was perfect for the job. Smart and sassy, not afraid of a little work, didn’t even blink at the wheelchair, and she had a great ass. It was going to be a pleasure teaching her just how he wanted things done.

The next two days flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Amy quit her job, gave notice at her apartment, found a temporary home for her houseplants, went to several fittings and spent half a day at a spa, courtesy of Mr. Drake. She felt just like Cinderella.


The big day arrived and Amy was waiting, one small bag packed with personal items, when the limo arrived. First class travel was a whole new concept for Amy, no lines, no waiting. They were whisked through the airport to a private jet and on their way to meet the boat in Miami.

The first battle came over lunch. When the flight attendant took drink orders Amy asked for champagne. It seemed natural for her first luxury travel experience.

"That won't be necessary, just serve the usual drink selections." RJ leveled a cool look at her, "I don't serve alcohol at lunch. It dulls the mind and makes for an unproductive day."

Amy huffed, muttering under her breath about Mr. High and Mighty, until his hand slammed down on the table next to his chair.

"You will follow the rules, all of them. There will be no mumbling and no back talk. Unless, of course, you're interested in your first lesson over my lap?"

"You can hardly expect me to follow rules I am unaware of. Perhaps you could give me a list?"

"Sarcasm is not something I am fond of, young lady, and you certainly will be getting a list of the rules you are expected to follow. For now, eat your lunch and be quiet."

Amy sulked for a few moments but the spectacular view of the ocean soon distracted her. The hectic pace of the past few days caught up with her and she curled up in her seat for a nap.

RJ studied her sleeping form with interest. She was perfect. Not the pallid, underfed, unisex look of current fashion, but the ripe, full softness of a real woman. Her hair fell casually across one cheek in soft waves, the subtle highlights of gold threaded through the chestnut brought out the golden tone of her skin. She was lucky, he was a decent guy, not one to take advantage of her as some might. Just the thought of what could happen to a young woman foolish enough to go running off with a total stranger caused his eyes to narrow. They would be discussing that this evening. He spent a few minutes thinking about that discussion, her over his lap, panties sliding down, soft, white skin just waiting for his touch. The painful tightness in his groin reminded him he had work to do and it didn't involve her bottom. Reluctant to leave her, he spent the balance of the flight working on his laptop and watching her sleep.

*****

Amy wandered about, wide eyed. This boat was the size of a small country. Old gray eyes must be loaded to afford something like this. No wonder he was paying so well. Of course the whole spanking thing was pretty weird, but, her daddy had paddled her plenty of times and it didn't kill her. Besides, how hard could he hit with no legs to anchor himself with. And the wheelchair pretty well guaranteed there would be no embarrassing sexual situations. Things were looking better and better. Her cabin was larger than any apartment she had ever lived in, in fact her closet was the size of most of them. And the clothes were beautiful. Not sleazy, as she had feared. A typed agenda on her desk listed the activities for the rest of the evening as dinner, followed by a short work period, then a daily review, and even listed her bedtime. This guy must be some kind of time management nut. She giggled, wondering if tomorrow's schedule would include a time to brush her teeth and a potty break.

She finished dressing and was wondering how to find the dining room when a discreet knock on her door signaled the arrival of her escort for dinner. A polite elderly gentleman in a white uniform offered her his arm and answered questions about the ship as they went up on deck. A beautiful sunset provided the backdrop for a small table set for two. Amy nodded at Mr. Drake and allowed her escort to seat her.

"Ordinarily we would be having wine with dinner. As we do have work to complete this evening I arranged a light meal and we will have drinks after our work period." RJ signaled the waiter and they ate in silence.

"Don't you get tired of always being so uptight?"

"I prefer to think of my life as organized. I have scheduling requirements that a man with two legs would not need. I prefer my life to be orderly and well run. And I expect you to function with the same efficiency I require of all of my staff. Please follow me and we will get to work."

Amy hated the way he simply assumed she would follow. He had too many people jumping to do his bidding. It was giving him a big head. Well, she may be part of his staff, but that didn't mean he owned her. She wandered into his study at a leisurely pace, taking time to admire the décor and ignoring the man glaring at her from behind the desk.

"In lieu of work this evening we will be going over the rules for your employment. Here is a simple list of the basics; we will add any others as needed."

Amy sat down to read what she expected to be a list of her duties while on board. Before she was half way through she was on her feet, pacing, and growing angrier by the second.

"What is this? Do you think I am a moron? I can't be trusted to dress myself?"

RJ watched her with interest. It would seem she had not paid attention at their first meeting, nor had she read the contract she signed. These were all stipulations made in the contract, stated more plainly perhaps, but nothing new.

"All of the rules on that list were agreed to in the contract you signed, Miss Nelson. I am providing you with this list at your request. I do expect you to follow all of the items of our agreement, and they will be enforced, rigorously."

"What are you, some kind of nut? Let me guess, you get off on having control over women. Must be tough to do in that wheelchair. I guess being rich helps; at least you can buy someone to follow your orders."

"Miss Nelson, it would behoove you to remember that the person I have purchased for this trip is yourself. My motives are none of your concern. Please read over the entire list, this is the only chance you will have for clarification. Starting tomorrow I expect you to follow the schedule I will have delivered to your room each morning."

Amy tossed her curls and huffed, but sat. The list was long and complete. Her time was to be parceled out according to schedule, she would wear the clothing selected for her at all times, his wishes would be accommodated as to food, drink, work periods, she would not leave the ship unless accompanied by him, she would be available around the clock, but with a guaranteed ten hours sleep period, it went on and on.

"You make it sound like I'm your prisoner or something." she sniffed.

"On the contrary, Miss Nelson, you are an employee. As such you are expected to fulfill the employment contract you signed. We will begin your official duties tomorrow. However, there is still the daily review to complete. Please follow me."

He maneuvered his wheelchair to the center of the room, locking the wheels in place. Amy followed cautiously, watching him remove the arm supports and lay them aside. She was still baffled by his actions when he reached out, grasping her wrist and drawing her to his side.

"Miss Nelson, what does your contract say about the daily review?"

"That you will give me feedback on my performance at the end of each day."

"As well as at any other time I deem necessary. Today was your first day so I will be more lenient than you can expect in the future. I was displeased by your behavior on the plane but we will overlook it this one time. I will, however, be addressing the fact that you placed yourself in a questionable situation by agreeing to travel with a total stranger."

"But this is a job."

"Yes, it is, and before hiring you I made sure you were a person of good character. Did you make any attempt to find out who I am? No, you did not. I could be a psychopath for all you know. Our first lesson will be about taking better care of yourself."

With that RJ tugged her across his lap, he still had enough of his legs left to elevate her bottom nicely, slipped her silk skirt to her waist and was tugging her panties down before she could react.

"What are you doing? Let me go before I scream, do you hear me, I'll scream."

"Miss Nelson, please rest assured that the staff has been notified that I expect to make you scream and they will not be discomfited by any noise you might make. Our agreement allows for any discipline I deem necessary, as long, and as hard, and as often as I deem necessary. You accepted my terms and my money, now you will accept my punishment for your bad judgment."

His hand crashed down, and he reveled in the feel of her bottom flattening beneath his assault. He set a brisk pace, spreading a rosy blush over her entire bottom and the tops of her thighs as she wiggled, begged, threatened, and finally screamed. When she was reduced to simply crying he rested his hand on her bottom and waited for her to realize he had stopped.

"Let me up."

"Oh, no, we are not finished. I just wanted to be certain I had your full attention before we get started with your punishment."

"No. Wait, you just punished me, we're done, you can let me up now." Amy wiggled franticly trying to slide off of his lap and away from his hard hand.

RJ smiled down at the red bottom jiggling as she tried to escape. He had forgotten how lovely a woman looked during punishment.

"Please tell me why you are being punished, Miss Nelson."

"Because I shouldn't have come, and you're right, really you are right. I shouldn't be here. I'll catch a flight out tomorrow and we'll just forget the whole thing."

"Miss Nelson, I am very disappointed in you. This punishment is for your carelessness with your own safety. There is no question of you leaving. You have a contract and I expect you to fulfill it. Now that we are clear on why you are being punished we can proceed."

RJ pulled a small thin wooden paddle from his pocket and began paddling in a steady rhythm, all the while lecturing her on personal safety. Her cries shifted to the steady sobbing of a well spanked girl before he finished her off with a hard volley to the backs of her thighs and set her on her feet. She hopped around holding her burning butt, doing the spanking dance for several minutes before realizing her panties were at her ankles and her dress was tucked above her waist. She slid the dress down, quickly stepping out of the panties and tucked them in a pocket. His chuckle at that decision earned him a cold glare, and confirmed that he was no gentleman.

"I'll escort you to your cabin."

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Drake."

"A lady should not be wandering in a strange place alone. It isn't safe. Do we need to discuss safety again, or are you ready to go?" He smiled at the emotions warring on her face. Her fear of the paddle won over her desire to tell him off, but barely. Gathering her tattered dignity she allowed him to escort her to her door.

Alone at last, Amy crawled into bed and tried to make sense of it all. He was some kind of maniac, that was certain, and her ass was on fire. So why did she feel safe and snug here? She should be plotting her escape, not snuggling down thinking about him.

~o~

There are several more chapters of Annie's story to come and I am always, always looking for more stories. If you're willing to try a story for us please send it to elisspeaks@yahoo.com

TBT - Gotta Rant

I know most of you have seen TBT (Throw back Thursday) on FaceBook . I’ve enjoyed posting pictures from way back and seeing what other might post. So I’m thinking of trying something like that here. It’s not that I’m pushing for re-runs in general, but there’s a reason. Think back to when you first started blogging. I know I was excited – I had things to say and I wrote some great post, things that I really felt were worth saying, the thing is no one was reading me back then.

So occasionally on Thursdays, if I’m come across an old post I think you might like, I’m going to post is – I’ll label it as a TBT. If you think it’s a good idea I’d like to read some of your older post that I might have missed before I found you. What do you think, good idea or would you rather not have re-runs?

This post has always been one of my favorites. I hope you’ll like it.

Gotta Rant

An email from a friend got me all stirred up about this topic so pardon me while I rant but I am just so mad. I want to know where the rest of the world gets off thinking that what we enjoy and the lifestyle we chose makes us some type of sicko that should not be accepted in polite society!

Many people enjoy massages; often they pay big bucks to have a stranger give them a massage. They talk about how good it felt and how relax they felt afterwards. If their friends, family and colleagues have any thoughts on the matter most would think, “Yeah, a massage would be great.” But I, for one, hate massages. Often people I barely know come up behind me and start rubbing my shoulders. It hurts likes hell. I want to scream at them. If I say anything about not wanting them digging their digits into the muscles near my neck I get a strange look and something like “You don’t like that? There must be something wrong with you. You are way too tense.”

I see people at the gym lifting weights so heavy they look as though they are going to tear a muscle. Runners and cyclist are taught to run or ride through the pain for the benefits on the other side. Huge men are paid bazillion dollars to slam into one another to get a ball moved down a field. All of these people are engaging in activities, by their own choice, that both hurt like hell and are activities that some other would never want to do. Yet they are considered normal. People will let them talk about what they enjoy doing and it’s even acceptable to encourage other to at least give it a try.

I enjoy being spanked. I love the sting, I love the afterglow, I love the achy soreness the next day, I love the feeling of release, I love the emotional closeness I feel with my husband, I love everything about it. Spanking is good for my physical, mental and emotional well being. I am not even encouraging others to try it. I am just saying it is a wonderful thing in my life.

So how come I would be the one to possible lose my job if my superiors were to discover that I blog about it. At best I could expect to be ridiculed, thought of as unnatural or perhaps perverted. IT'S NOT FAIR! I am just as normal as those who like massages, lift weight, run or play football. But no, our desire is strictly taboo. I want to stand up and yell “I’m mad and I’m not going to take it anymore” instead I have to sit here and type “I’m mad and there is not a damn, thing I can do about it.”

And if you don’t mind if I rant on, another topic we are discussing on our blog is about our sex life. This would also make our friends and family gasp in horror and heap embarrassment on us. Why? If I chose to read blogs about improving my cardiovascular system that would be fine, if my boss or family found out they would be proud of me. I could ask all the question I wanted to and gathering all the information I could. But if I want to learn about my sexuality, if I want to learn more about how this part of my body, how it works and ways to improve or enhanced the quality of an orgasm – oh my, heaven forbid! And speaking of heaven, God created our bodies and included in the female special added features strictly for pleasure having nothing to do with reproduction. So evidently He intended for us to enjoy this part of our lives. There is nothing wrong with researching how our bodies are supposed to work.

I'm talking about sex and spankings on my blog. I am not standing on the street corner yelling these things at folks that don't want to hear it. If you weren't willing to hear my opinions on these topics you wouldn’t have read this far. I know that none of us are embarrassed in the least by what we read or write, yet we're all afraid of others finding out, because others won’t understand. I want my blog to remain a secret. Not only would I have to live with the embarrassment if it were discovered, my family would also. But if anyone I know does find my blog and tries to make me feel guilty or threats to tell others, I am going to print this post off, shove it in their face and tell them to kiss my ass.