Mayor Daddy, page 8
"I'm here," I answered, massaging a knot in my shoulder with my free hand. "And I hear you. And I'll think about it."
"Think hard," Trina retorted. "You need to do something. "Meltdown manager is not part of my job description."
"Okay, okay. Love you. Thank you. Talk to you later."
"Think about it!" she yelled again as I disconnected the call.
Even before I said goodbye I knew she was right. I had to do something. Even as I silently berated myself for needing my ass beat in order to effectively manage a situation I had put myself in of my own accord, I booked a room, and packed a bag.
Kilches
* * *
What was I doing back here? As soon as the cows had been milked the day after the debate, I hopped in my truck and pulled onto the freeway heading out of town. I was still in my work clothes, I had no bag packed, and I had given no forethought to my plan, but I knew I was headed back to the club.
Spanking someone was a great release; at least spanking Callie had been. And I needed a release, desperately. Even though the debate had gone better than I could have ever imagined, I was full of nervous energy. My phone seemed to ring off the hook, my calendar was filling up and my weekends were busy with town events. All of which I was expected to attend, poised and ready to present this image of a perfect small-town mayor. I could be a great mayor, and I knew I would be if I got elected, but playing the part and campaigning was exhausting.
I pulled into the lot, and entered through the back door, stopping at the desk. The last two times I had been had been sort of meet and greets, a perfect time for finding a random play partner, but it was a Tuesday night and there were no such events.
The bouncer, a huge redheaded hulk of a man named Adolfo of all things, greeted me by name even though I'd only been here twice. I was impressed. Good customer service. They had made no mistakes putting this guy in charge.
"You're here by yourself?" he questioned.
"Yes. Just need the release of working out some stress in a safe, consensual way. Do you have any options for me?"
"Yeah man. I got you." He shuffled around some papers on the counter, seemingly found what he was looking for and picked it up, peering at it and then at me.
"We've got a couple ladies tonight looking for the same. Must be a lot of stress going around. Maybe Mercury in retrograde or some shit."
"Maybe." I didn't follow any of that.
"So over in the main bar, there are two ladies looking for a Dom tonight. They are probably looking for a regular play partner, if you catch my drift. If that suits you, I'll wristband you up and send you in, let you work your magic and see if anything sticks."
I raised my eyebrows. It was the regular play partner thing that caught my attention. I was just here to scratch an itch. "Is there another option? I think I would like something with less potential strings."
He smiled. "I got you, man. All right, check it. In one of the private rooms, I have someone looking for what we call a one-night experience."
"What's that?"
"Normally it's something one of our dungeon masters would handle simply because we don't get the request very often and it's hard to match."
Color me intrigued. "Tell me more."
"Well, I have here a list of limits. You would look it over, make sure it's amenable to you. If you have any questions beforehand, you write them down and one of our staff will take them to her and bring you the answers. Once that is taken care of, you would send a message telling her how to wait for you, on her knees, on a cross, affixed over a spanking bench… You choose and someone will help her prepare. You can even both wear hoods and never see each other's faces, it's up to you. Once you go in, the only negotiation to be done is a safeword and then you play. If you choose this, it is a room windowed with one way glass and one of us will observe to make sure all limits are kept and everyone is safe."
It was dark, a bit dangerous and exactly what I needed tonight. I nodded. "Sign me up. Let's do it."
"Okay, perfect." He handed me a piece of paper, presumably limits. "Your sub tonight prefers to go by babygirl. If you need to address her, that is what you will use." He nodded at the piece of paper. "Look that over. Let me know about the hoods or blindfolds. If you need to purchase any toys for the evening's play, we have a variety available. As always with stranger play, you may use your own implements for impact or restraint if you prefer, but if you plan to use any sexual or penetration toys, you must purchase them for one-time use."
"Penetration? With a stranger?" I hadn't imagined that would be a thing but now that it had been brought up, I was imagining how hot it would be and my body was reacting.
Adolfo nodded. "If it's on the list as a yes."
I quickly skimmed the list. All the usual things I wasn't into in any way were marked as no. Blood play, breath play, knife play, water sports, electrocution play. When we got to the impact play section the only implement that was a no was a bullwhip. I didn't blame the mystery girl there. As a rancher, I myself was quite skilled with a bullwhip, but not many were.
Then I got to the sexual penetration section and was pleasantly surprised by what I found. Intercourse, sexual penetration with my cock in any hole was off the table, but toys and fingers weren't. I could work with that.
I looked up from the paper to find Adolfo watching me intently. I cleared my throat. "This works. Let's do an eye mask rather than a hood, and for her only. I prefer to see what I’m doing. I'd like her to be secured to a spanking bench when I come in. For impact play, I'll use my own toys." I nodded to the worn duffel I was carrying. "And I'd like to purchase some penetration toys."
Callie
* * *
What in the hell had I let Trina get me into this time? I thought to myself as I sat alone in a private room on a leather couch waiting for the powers to be to decide my fate. I knew it wasn't Trina's fault. While she had put the idea in my head to go to the club, I was the one who had signed myself up for a stranger experience. The idea that I could negotiate on paper, and not have to worry about things like small talk, giving myself over to being dominated by a stranger had seemed empowering at first. Now I just wanted to throw up.
I was seriously contemplating changing my mind and running out of here when the door opened and a young lady in a club uniform entered with a shy smile.
"You've been chosen for play," she informed me. "Your Dom this evening would like you to please strip naked. My orders are to cuff you to the spanking bench to wait for his arrival."
Holy shit. This had just gotten real. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at her, trying to process her instructions, fight or flight mode activated.
She smiled encouragingly. "I know it's scary, but I promise you he's been thoroughly vetted and someone will observe the scene just to make sure nothing goes wrong.” She pointed to a glass panel on the far side of the room. I hadn't noticed it before and I wasn't sure if that made me feel better or worse.
After freezing for a moment, I realized as scary as this was, I wanted to go through with it. I stripped, under the watchful eye of the young woman, folding my clothes into a pile on the couch.
"If you need the restroom, there's one right there." She nodded to another door I hadn't noticed and I quickly used the facilities, splashed some water on my face, gave myself a pep talk in the mirror and re-entered the small room.
"Okay, I'm ready." Not wanting to draw out the humiliation, I walked across the room and laid myself across the spanking bench. She followed, kneeling as she cuffed first my wrists and then my ankles, securing me until I no longer had the option to run. When she was done, she walked around to the front of the bench and slipped a satin blindfold over my eyes.
"There you are," she stated way too cheerfully as she stood and made her way to the door. "Your Dom will be here soon. Have fun."
Fun wasn't a word that seemed accurate when one was naked and strapped to a spanking bench waiting for an unknown Dom, but I was hoping for the best.
I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths to calm myself. And then I heard the door creak open and the sound of footsteps on a wooden floor. His shoes were heavy and it sounded like they had a heel. It reminded me of cowboy boots, but who wore cowboy boots to a BDSM club? Aside from Kilches anyway. He wore cowboy boots everywhere. I couldn't think about Kilches right now so I pushed the shoe thoughts out of my head and waited for him to speak.
"Hey babygirl." The stranger's voice was low and smooth, with a bit of a twang in it. Dammit he even sounded like Kilches. Obviously, I had Kilches on the brain and my mind was playing tricks on me.
"Hey," I answered back shyly, unsure of how to address him.
"Hello, sir," he corrected me. I could feel him getting closer, and knew when he was standing directly behind me. Still, when he laid his hand on my behind and squeezed ever so gently I had to keep myself from jumping. His hands were rough and calloused in places. A working man's hands. Somehow that calmed me.
"Hello, sir," I repeated. My voice was barely above a whisper as I struggled to speak around the lump in my throat.
"I think we are going to have some fun tonight." His confident assurance sent shivers down my spine. "First, I need to know, do you want to change any of your limits?"
"No, sir." I did, desperately, but that was just the panic setting in.
"And do you have a safeword?"
"It's pickle."
There was a moment of hesitation and I swore there was a change in his tone when he answered. "Very good. Are you familiar with the stoplight system?"
"Stoplight system? Like green, yellow, red? Yes sir, I'm familiar with it."
"I'll use that to check in with you from time to time tonight just to make sure all is well, and that we are on the same page. Make sure you are honest in your answers."
"Yes, sir," I breathed. I wanted him to just get to the spanking already and to be done with the chit-chat. His voice was bothering me.
Still when he lifted his hand and brought it down across the center of my left cheek with a stinging smack, I gasped. From surprise more than pain. It felt more sensual than painful and already my pussy was aching for attention. I knew that would only get worse as the night went on.
"Oh you liked that," he murmured appreciatively. "You naughty little slut."
My body went slack at the degrading word choice and heat rose up my body. I didn't hate it as much as I would have assumed.
He smacked me again, several times on each cheek, using only his hand, and I wiggled ever so slightly against the restraints. Knowing he could spank me as hard as he wanted and there would be nothing I could do about it was oddly comforting and seriously arousing.
He stepped away and I heard the pull of a zipper. His pants? I had said no penetration. Well not from his penis anyway. My breathing grew shallow as I inwardly panicked.
"I'm opening my toy bag," he announced belatedly. "To find something to spank you with."
I instantly relaxed and listened to the different sounds the implements made as he clanked them together, rummaging for god knows what.
It was weird to be blindfolded. To rely solely on the way things sounded and the energy around me. I knew when he stood, somehow just from the way the air shifted around my body. I drew a deep breath and waited for impact but none came. I was dying to know what he had chosen but I didn't dare ask.
Finally, I felt him pull back his arm and flick his wrist, and a small bolt of pain exploded on my upper thigh.
"What is that?" I cried, unable to stop myself. The sensation wasn’t one I recognized but then, I had very little experience to go off of.
He didn't answer, repeating the same action on the other thigh in the exact same spot.
And then, the spanking truly commenced. Stinging slapping pain explosions were delivered all across my bottom with the slightest flicks of his wrist. The pain was new and delicious. I could feel my pussy soaking.
"Mmmm," I moaned, pushing my bottom toward him as best I could.
"Oh you like that do you? You do, maybe a little too much. Maybe I should find something you'll like a little bit less." Even as he spoke, his voice still hauntingly familiar, he continued his assault on my bottom. The smacks were close together, delivered with no rhyme or reason to where they would fall next. If his intention was to keep me guessing, it was working.
And then all of a sudden, he stopped and stepped away and I felt the shift around me as he knelt to rummage once more, the sound of implements clicking together as he dug.
"I think you are enjoying the crop a little too much. I think we need something you'll enjoy a little less. But what could that be? Not leather apparently. Wood? Acrylic? Lexan? Bamboo? The possibilities are truly endless.
My lack of experience rendered me speechless, but I was pretty sure the questions he was asking were rhetorical anyway and did not require answers.
"Let's try a cane," he murmured. "Acrylic, not bamboo."
Oh god. I was afraid of canes—they seemed scary to me, but I had marked them as okay because I wanted to be dragged out of my comfort zone. I wasn't entirely sure what I had come here seeking, but whatever it was, I wasn't leaving without it
.
Chapter 11
Kilches
* * *
There was a small heart-shaped mole on the crease of her thigh—the only mark on her otherwise perfect pale brown skin—and when I saw it, my heart jumped in my chest. Callie had the exact same mark, in the exact same spot.
I had to really look at her then, at this splayed and naked stranger who had willingly given herself and her body over to a man who she didn't know. It didn't seem like something Callie would ever do, but apparently, I didn't know her all that well, because it was definitely her.
When I looked at her now, it was obvious. Her dark curls had been pulled into a high ponytail, a style I had never seen on her, and to tell the truth I had been so nervous when I first entered I hadn't looked that closely. But I saw it now. I recognized the curve of her hips, her thighs, her shapely waist… How had I not seen it?
The realization took my breath away. What were the odds? And now that I knew, did I do anything about it? Did I reveal myself? It seemed like a bad idea. We had both obviously needed an outlet; we had both signed up for an anonymous experience. At least one of us should get it.
It would have been easier for me to work out my frustrations on someone I didn't know. For a moment, I looked at the cane in my hand and contemplated something gentler. Then I remembered how she had spoken to me that day at the docks, how I had poured my heart out and she had pushed me away. Ambition was more important to her than the possibility of something between us.
I took a step closer and leaned over her, letting the tip of the cane dance across her flesh. "Something tells me you have been very naughty. You came here tonight looking for something didn't you? A release? I'm going to make sure you get it."
The only response was a soft gasp followed by a whimper. The muscles in her back tensed and then relaxed. She was nervous but we were on the same page. We wanted what we had come for and I couldn't let my discovery of her identity mar that experience or lessen it somehow.
Pulling the cane back, I expertly flicked my wrist, watching as it hit the skin and popped back up. A small line formed across the center of her bottom.
She hissed. I smiled. Let the caning begin. I spanked in earnest then, letting no time pass between the time a line formed on her skin and when the next stroke fell. She was wiggling and whimpering, trying to dodge the strokes and guess where they would fall, but she was tightly secured to the bench. She wasn't going anywhere. After about twenty lines had been laid across her bare ass and thighs and her pussy was glistening with wetness, I paused and laid my free hand across her butt. It was warm to the touch.
"Green, yellow, or red?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. Callie was no stranger to me.
She squeaked out, "Green, sir," confirming my thoughts and I took the go-ahead to continue.
I loved watching the thin welts form, loved the way she hissed and struggled before settling into the pain. I was pretty sure I loved her, but this wasn't the time to delve into that.
God she was sexy. Every curve of her body was already committed to my memory and each time she whimpered my cock grew hard within the constraints of my jeans.
She was wet, and her wetness was dripping onto the leather spanking bench. I stopped after the next set of twenty, when lines were crossing lines on her skin, and placed my hand between her legs. Cupping her mound, I slid one finger down the length of her slit, savoring her velvety softness. "Naughty girl," I teased her. "You like being spanked, don't you?"
When she didn't answer, I paused. "Red, yellow or green?"
"Green, sir," she panted.
"Green," I murmured. "So if I touch you like this—" I slipped one finger inside of her. “—are you still green?"
"Yes sir." Her voice was strained but eager.
"And like this?" I slid another finger all the way inside, thrusting both digits in and out of her. "Still green?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Good." The cane fell to the ground as I dropped to my knees, putting all my concentration into fucking her with my fingers. I reveled in every one of her soft whimpers, savoring the way her body curved and arched around me. She felt like heaven. Knowing I couldn't take off my pants and slip my dick inside her was a special kind of torture.
Suddenly I wanted to retaliate for the deprivation. I wanted to give her everything I was allowed to give, to penetrate every hole.
Stopping my ministrations, I reached into my bag and pulled out the items I had just purchased. A metal butt plug, a colorful dildo in a bright purple that matched her campaign signs and the suit she had worn at the debate, and a small bottle of lube.
I slathered the plug liberally, but not the dildo. She didn't need it. She was wet enough, her body had provided all the lubrication I needed.
