Hola everyone. I'm practicing using Spanish in case I have to move to Mexico. For those of you who may not have visited over the weekend, I suggested that if Trump or Cruz wins the presidency, I'm contemplating a move to Mexico. So far, I think PK may be on board. Anyone else?
I managed to get another part of the story written. It is what it is. If you want to read from the beginning, click here.
FFE (Fantasy Fun Evermore)
Katrina began getting out silverware and napkins and placed them on the table. Strain existed between them. Who were they, were they still Miranda and Martin or were they back to Don and Katrina? Not knowing how to resolve the issue, she ignored it and continued getting their dinner on the table. When they were ready to eat, he pulled out her chair. When her bottom hit the seat, she winced a bit.
“Bottom sore, Miranda?
“Yes, Martin. You flamed my ass and me don’t think I’ve ever experienced that feeling before, certainly not as a grown woman.”
“Is it necessary that you use course language.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why can you not use a word like bottom, behind, backside, rump? Certainly there are many more words that refer to that beautiful part of your body than ass.”
“I’m sorry I upset your sensibilities.”
“I should think that with your bottom still tender, you might not want to taunt your disciplinarian.”
“Is that what you are?”
“I came here as Martin, and I chastised Miranda. I think it important that we keep to our roles if we are going to have an ongoing arrangement. If we stick to these roles, it won’t interfere with our relationship at FFE. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, I do. I wondered how that would work. So, when we meet as Martin and Miranda, I’m your submissive, so to speak.”
“Yes.”
“Who makes the rules?”
“I make the rules dependent upon your input. Once the rules are set, they are what they are. Any changes have to be renegotiated.”
“And what is your going rate? I assume it’s not free.”
“I’ve never done this on a one-on-one basis unless I was in a personal relationship with someone, so I have no idea. I don’t need the money, between FFE and the club, my financial needs are more than met, so why don’t we see how it goes and decide before we finalize our contract.”
“And, when will that be?”
“I suggest we do that before we do this again. Assuming, you want to do this again.”
Katrina flushed with excitement merely thinking about another spanking. “By looking at you blush, I have my answer. By the way, you look lovely when you blush, you take on such a tender, innocent look.” He didn’t want her to know that the look gave him an erection. This was not a personal relationship, and he didn’t do casual sex.
“Sounds good. What does your schedule look like this week?”
They set a time and as he was leaving she pressed $30.00 into his hand. When he opened his hand and saw, he was angry, and it earned her a hard swat on her backside. “I thought we agreed to wait.”
“I thought the least I could do was pay for dinner. If you don't believe so, you can take it out on my ass the next time.” That earned her another hard swat on her tush.
“Good night Miranda before I end up taking you over my knee again.” She smiled at him and once again that flushed look excited him.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“I don’t know Masked Man, but you fanned the flames of a monster that’s been lurking inside of me for quite some time.”
Somehow Katrina got through the weekend. Every time she thought about the spanking, or inadvertently brushed her ass, or managed to see the one itsy-bitsy bruise mark that remained, she reached for her rabbit. She went through two sets of batteries in two days.
Dreading Monday morning and seeing Don Kostas at FFE had her contemplating calling in sick. The reason she didn’t, the thought of being called out by Martin, the Masked Man. That idea seemed more intimidating than actual facing Don Kostas.
Monday morning always began with a staff meeting that outlined the work plan for the week. She took a seat as far removed from Don’s chair as possible. She tried avoiding eye contact but each time she looked in that direction, his eyes seemed to be boring into her psyche. When it became Katrina's turn to discuss her plans for the week, it was a disaster. She looked off into space and stuttered and stammered her way through.
“Well, let’s hope Ms. Lambert that your work week goes much smoother than your presentation this morning,” Don said.
She felt the color creeping up from her toes and thought about his comment about her blushing. The fact that she remained seated and didn’t jump up and storm out of the room surprised even her. ‘This was his fault. How dare he call her out?’
“Excuse me, Ms. Lambert, did you say something?”
“OMG, I must have said that last thought aloud.”
“No, I apologize, my mind was elsewhere.” There was quite a bit of snickering around the room, and Katrina couldn’t wait until this damn meeting was over. When it was, he cornered her in the hall.
“Katrina, while at work keep your focus on your job, nothing else. Understood.”
She had the greatest urge to say ‘yes, sir,' where did that come from? Instead, she shook her head. “It felt a little strange; I’ll get over it.”
“See that you do.” He said in his Masked Man voice and tone.
“That is so not fair.”
“What are you talking about.”
You’re blurring the lines on me. That was the Masked Man’s voice and tone, not Don Kostas’.”
He smirked and walked away.
She called him on his remarks and tone. It was true, he was having difficulty separating one from the other, much like her. The whole time he watched her in the meeting, he kept thinking about her being across his knee. Such a righteous bottom and so wanting and grateful afterward. ‘Get out of your own head, asshole.’ he said to himself.
Things did get better as the day and week wore on. By Thursday evening when they planned to meet to talk over their arrangement, they were almost back to their normal behavior and roles at FFE.
They arranged to meet at the club. Don and the rest of Wink’s employees used a private entrance, and he asked Katrina to ring the bell when she arrived. He was on the phone when she arrived, and one of the other Dom’s answered the door. When he wouldn’t allow Katrina entrance, she became belligerent. She was in full tirade when Martin arrived at the on the scene.
“What’s going on here?”
“He won’t let me in.”
“And you thought acting like a naughty little girl was going to change things.”
His voice and demeanor screamed out that he was in full Dom mode. She was humbled.
“Now apologize to Derek and we will discuss your behavior in private.”
When she apologized to Derek, he told her that if she were his submissive, she would have found herself bound, her bottom bared and thoroughly paddled in full view of everyone on the floor. Katrina was not Miranda at the moment, and she bit her tongue to keep from telling this jackass just what he could do with himself and further embarrassing the Masked Man.
The Masked Man led her to his office and closed and locked the door.
“Miranda, take off your clothes and stand in that corner until I’m ready for you.”
“What?”
“You heard what I called you and what I said, now do it.”
“But this is supposed to be a meeting to go over rules.”
“You crossed that line - you acted like Miranda, and you’re in a BDSM club. You’re just lucky it’s me and not Derek. Now do what I told you.”
He watched her sputter and although he could almost see the steam coming out of her ears, she obeyed his command. He sat down at his desk and hoped she didn’t notice the huge bulge in his pants. He had to get himself under control before taking her over his knee.
He pushed his chair back from his desk and called her to him. She shuffled over toward him, her eyes widening at the sight of a wooden ruler in his hand. He pulled her over his lap, raising one leg to get her bottom in the best possible position for inflicting his message. He watched her bottom clench and brought down the ruler with an intensity not usually used in warm-ups. He wanted her to feel the full consequences of her behavior.
SPLAT – the sound of the ruler hitting bare flesh reverberated around the room.
See you next month for more Aimless Ramblings. Hard to believe, two months of the new year gone with the flick of a page.