Page 7 of Stuck with You

“What did you mean about a spanking?” she finally asked, her voice soft and uncertain.

I stopped walking and turned to face her. Her cheeks were pink, and when I made eye contact with her, she looked down at her feet. She was interested, I had no doubt. Not just in me but in exploring the side of herself she’d likely kept under wraps all these years.

I wondered if she read BDSM books when she was alone. If she got herself off to fantasies of being tied up and spanked. Iwondered if her face would turn that same color of pink when I made her come her brains out after a good, hard spanking.

“Let’s just say that it’s a hobby of mine to teach people like you to be good girls.”

“People like me?” she asked curiously.

“Bratty submissives.”

Aubrey

Taylor started walking again and I jogged to catch up, my eyes scanning the ground for cigarette butts and other pieces of wayward trash.

“How do you teach them to be good girls?” I couldn’t resist asking, oddly fascinated by her words.

“Sometimes I take them over my knee and spank them. Maybe with my hand, or a hairbrush or even a ruler,” Taylor said casually, as if she was talking about going grocery shopping. “Sometimes I tie them up and give them a nice flogging or use a paddle. Sometimes I tease them until they’re dying for an orgasm, until their entire body is shaking with the need to come, but as a punishment I won’t let them have a release. No matter how much they beg.”

My mouth dropped open so wide I was surprised that I didn’t swallow a bug. For some reason her words were arousing. I felt the same excitement I felt right before someone kissed me for the first time. Or when I read a spicy scene in one of my favorite books.

“Do you mean BDSM?” I asked quietly, looking around to make sure we were alone. “Are you saying you’re one of those… dominatrix people?”

“That’s right.”

Oh my God. I didn’t think things like this happened in real life.

“Do you have a red room where you whip people like that creepy billionaire in the movies?”

I couldn’t say for sure what I hoped her answer would be to that question.

Taylor laughed. “God no. I belong to a place called Club Surrender. It’s a BDSM club for self-identified women. Light BDSM, nothing hard core. It’s a place where women can explore their kinky sides without being harassed by men and their alpha energy.”

“There’s a place like that here in Seattle?” I asked, fascinated.

“Yes.”

“So is it all lesbians who go there?”

I was assuming that Taylor was a lesbian since she’d kissed me. But then again, I’d always thought I was straight, and I kissed her back. I’d also been having naughty fantasies about her ever since.

“No. A lot of straight women come to the club because it’s a safe space. And of course lesbians, bisexuals, trans women, Club Surrender welcomes them all,” she explained. “Getting off sexually is a part of many people’s experience, but it’s not required. A lot of people just want a good flogging to release tension or clear their heads.”

My heart was pounding so hard now I was surprised Taylor didn’t hear it.

“Wow. I thought people who were… into that… needed to be kinky in order to get off or something.”

“Some people can find it sexually arousing, like myself. It depends on the submissive and situation,” Taylor explained. “But I also like to have vanilla sex. For me, BDSM is just another option for spicing things up, although I do know some people who can’t enjoy sex without kink.”

We were both quiet for the next fifteen minutes or so while I absorbed everything that Taylor told me. I’d always been fascinated with the idea of being spanked. I’d hinted around about it a few times with one of my ex-boyfriends but either he wasn’t into it or he didn’t understand what I wanted. Instead I’dcontented myself with reading BDSM romance or watching the occasional spanking video on one of the porn sites.

Was BDSM as hot in real life as it was in my imagination? The idea of trying it in real life was irresistible. I rolled the idea around in my head nonstop for the rest of the day, too nervous to say anything to Taylor about it until right before we left.

After the deputy released us for the day, I followed Taylor to her car and gave her back the plastic poncho she’d shared with me. Then I took a deep breath and mumbled the words that would change my life.

“About that spanking…”

Taylor stilled. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I looked up at her. My old high school nemesis was studying me carefully, her expression carefully blank.

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