Classic Al.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Al looks like he wants to say something more, but he just shakes his head and asks, “Who's playing?”
Sophie
I come home from the massage studio disappointed to find my toys have still not arrived. I’ve never been so impatient for a box to arrive in my life.
Joey calls. “Hey, baby. How was your day?” He’s called or texted every day this week, and every time my traitorous heart picks up speed.
He came to the studio once this week for another massage. I told him no happy ending because I wanted his back to improve, and he accepted that but insisted I’d already worked most of the pain out the first time. I’m suddenly breathless, instantly turned on imagining him using them on me. “It was great. I, uh, ordered some toys.”
“Oh yeah?”
My heart beats like the wings of a little bird. “Yeah. For you to…um, spank me with.” My voice gets small.
“Mmm. I will look forward to that.”
“Joey?”
“Yeah?”
“Who else have you spanked?”
He’s quiet long enough that I think he’s not going to answer.
“I mean, I’m just curious.” I’m more than curious. I hunger for every last dirty detail. “Will you tell me about one?” I coax. “Maybe your first?”
A low laugh tells me Joey has caught on. Of all the men I’ve ever dated, he’s certainly the quickest on the uptake. Or maybe he just gets me.
“It was at the club.”
The club. I’m intrigued. I sprawl back on my bed, letting my fingers wander between my legs.
“What happened?”
“It was years ago—I was pretty young. One of the cocktail waitresses was caught stealing from the register. Sammy hauled her into my office.”
I listen, breath quickened, thighs squeezing together over my hand.
“Sammy asks me what we ought to do with her. You don’t steal from the LaTorre’s, you know? So firing her didn’t seem like enough. We had to send a message.”
“But we both were sort of stymied. If she were a guy, Sammy would’ve broken a few fingers without even asking me what I thought. But she was a girl, and you don’t do that.”
“‘Should I bust the windows in her car?’ Sammy asks. That didn’t seem like such a great idea, considering she was probably stealing because she needed the money, and it would just make her more desperate. She wasn’t a bad employee, you know. But we couldn’t let it go unpunished. So then I had this idea. ‘We’ll give you a choice. You can bend over my desk and take your punishment,’ I told her. ‘Or we’ll turn you over to the cops.’
“She was already crying because she thought Sammy was going to rip her fingernails off, so she was happy to just get a spanking. Sammy takes off his belt. I give him a nod, and he starts spanking her. He’s not very good at it. Not that I’d ever had any practice, but even sitting behind the desk, I can tell he’s just hitting the same side over and over again and ignoring the other cheek.”
I hold the phone away from my face, so he can’t hear my breath, which has turned to panting as I near orgasm. My fingers work my clit, rubbing and undulating as I imagine the scene.
“So I’m coaching him—‘hit both sides, no, now the other side.’ I have this sense it should go slower—I don’t know why—to give her time to really feel her predicament, I guess. So I tell him to slow down. I watch her face. Sammy is giving me looks, waiting for me to say enough. I hold up my finger. There’s a point when someone breaks. Same as beating a guy on the street, just different because it’s a female, and they cry sooner. You wait till they stop looking stubborn, till they stop holding back. You wait until—” he breaks off, and I try to swallow my gasps.
“Did you just come?”
“Yeah,” I admit, out of breath. I give a short bark of laughter. “Is that weird?”
“No.” His voice is rough. “I just wish I were with you.”